HTLJ:YH Facts of Life
by Arianna18
Summary: Iolaus teaches Jason some much-needed lessons about surviving on the streets.


"Jason, sometimes I don't think you have the foggiest idea about the facts of life," Iolaus snorted derisively as he sorrowfully shook his head, mocking the Prince of Corinth, "and I'm not talking about the birds and the bees…about which I might say you have a modest bit of knowledge."

"Hey, I'm not an idiot," Jason protested, annoyed. They'd just come out of a class where the lecture and discussion had been about strategy, more specifically about how to go about preparing a populace for war. Jason had expressed the view that a King could rely upon the loyalty of his subjects and needed only to call them into action. He'd noticed Iolaus roll his eyes as he'd covered his face to muffle a disparaging snort of derision at the time, so he'd made a point of catching up with the other student to confront him and find out why the blond cadet had reacted like that. "The whole point of living under a King's protection is to render service when it's needed," he went on a little pedantically.

Sighing, Iolaus cut a quick glance up at Hercules with an expression that as much as said he didn't know where to begin setting the young royal straight. "You know, for someone who is going to be a king someday, you sure don't know much about what the common folk think or feel," Iolaus replied, a look of resignation on his face. How could Jason know? When would he ever have had a chance to learn?

"And I suppose you understand 'the common folk' so much better than I do," Jason challenged back.

"Well, I haven't spent my whole life pampered and protected in a palace, that's for sure," Iolaus returned archly.

Crossing his arms, Jason scowled at the younger cadet. "So, why don't you explain it all to me, then, if you understand them so well," he drawled.

Throwing up his hands, Iolaus shook his head. "What, in a few words, explain what people feel and how they're likely to act? Not likely. You have to experience it…"

"Right," Jason cut in, rolling his eyes toward Hercules. "Do you have any idea what he's talking about…or is he just blowing hot air, as usual?"

"Well…" Hercules began, resigned to once again playing the mediator between his two stubborn and hot-headed friends. But, he was interrupted by the voice of another they'd not noticed who had overheard their conversation.

Chiron had followed them out of the lecture hall and had been amused by the exchange. Though the Prince of Corinth clearly wasn't buying it, the young ex-thief had a point. "If you can't explain it, Iolaus," he interjected dryly, "perhaps you can show Jason what you're talking about."

Startled, the three youths turned to face the centaur. "Huh?" replied Iolaus, while Jason asked, "Show me how?"

"I think a field trip might be in order," Chiron suggested. "Iolaus, why don't you take Jason into the streets and countryside, let him get to know some 'common folk' as you call them, and learn for himself how they think and feel."

Appalled by the idea, Iolaus shook his head vigorously as he protested, "Chiron, you can't be serious! He wouldn't last a week without getting himself into trouble."

"It will be your job, Iolaus, to get him out of trouble," Chiron replied with a tight smile and a hard look.

Iolaus gaped at the centaur, while Jason grinned, rather liking the idea of a week or so away from the stringent rules of the Academy. "I think it sounds like a great idea," he said. "When do we leave? And how long can we be gone?"

Hercules thought he should add something to the discussion, particularly since he agreed with Iolaus and could only begin to imagine how Jason's naturally authoritative manner would be received by peasants and street people. If they knew he was a Prince, they'd just nod and get out of his way…but if they didn't, they would be more likely to try to teach him some manners…and that could get rough. "Uh, Chiron, I think Iolaus might have a point…"

"What?" demanded Jason, whirling on his friend, feeling as if he'd just been stabbed in the back. It had never occurred to him that Hercules might actually agree with Iolaus about this. "So, you think I'm an idiot, too. Well, thanks a lot."

"You're not an idiot, Jason," the young demigod replied placatingly, raising his hands to try to quell the hot emotions. "But…Iolaus is right. You don't know how to…well, act like anything but what you are. And, what you are is a Prince who is used to people doing whatever you want them to do."

"Which is the whole point of the exercise," Chiron intervened firmly. "If Jason is to be a wise King, he must understand his people. Iolaus, when do you want to begin this field trip?"

Blowing out a sigh, realizing he'd once again gotten himself into trouble with his big mouth, Iolaus gave Jason a thoughtful look. "We'll need a couple of weeks to let his hair grow out a bit. He looks too 'spit and polish' to fit in with ordinary people. And, we'll have to find him some old clothes with a few patches or ragged hems. The stuff he's wearing is too expensive, of too good a quality…"

"Hmm," reflected the centaur, also studying the young Prince, who was beginning to fidget uncomfortably under their inspection. "I take your point. All right. In two weeks, the two of you can head out for up to a week…and I'll expect a full report on your return."

"Two…" Hercules interjected, surprised to be left out. "What about me?"

"What about you, Hercules?" Chiron asked austerely, turning to regard the Son of Zeus, one brow arched.

"Well, uh, won't I be going with them?" the young demigod asked hopefully.

"I see no requirement for you to participate in this exercise," the centaur replied sternly. "Unlike most of the students here, you did not grow up in a wealthy environment so you have no need to learn the same lessons that Iolaus will share with Jason. Nor do your friends require your protection. Iolaus and Jason are quite capable of taking care of themselves and one another. This isn't an impromptu holiday…it's a learning exercise."

"Right," Hercules nodded, suitably chastised and put in his place. Well, he'd tried. If Jason and Iolaus killed each other, it wouldn't be his fault. Shaking his head as he watched the centaur stride away, the demigod wondered how long it would take for his two friends to be at each other's throats.

* * *

The other cadets thought the whole idea was hysterically funny when they heard about it, teasing both Jason and Iolaus mercilessly.

"So, you're going to learn what it feels like to be a peasant, are you?" Lachemedes jibed Jason, as he poked him in the ribs. "You look a little too well fed to me…I don't think you'll be convincing."

"Better him than me," Elias countered with a smirk. "I've no desire to know what it feels like to be poor."

"Might improve your character," Iolaus retorted to the cadet he'd always considered a supercilious ass with affected manners.

Snorting, Elias gave the typically unkempt cadet a disparaging look. "Well, there's no one better equipped than you to show Jason the underside of society," he sneered. While most cadets had come to accept Iolaus in the last four months, there were some, like Elias, who hadn't forgotten the ex-thief was at the Academy on sufferance, serving out the court order of a soft-hearted judge.

"Hey, just a minute," Hercules protested, not liking the tone or the implication underlying Elias' comment, but Iolaus cut in.

"No, he's right," Iolaus replied, his voice a little tight but trying for some measure of dignity. "That's the whole point, isn't it? Chiron chose me for this assignment because he knows I can handle it."

Unconsciously pulling his fingers through hair a little too long for his liking, Jason observed, "How hard will it be? We're just going to wander around for a few days and talk to people."

Patting Jason on the shoulder, Iolaus encouraged him sarcastically, "That's the spirit, Jase. Don't focus on the long, cold, uncomfortable nights or the idea of being hungry. You're a brave man and it will be an honour to show you the 'underside of society'."

"Yeah, right," the Prince mumbled. How bad could a few nights without food be? It wasn't like they were going into battle or anything…it was likely to be a drag, but he'd asked for it and he'd see it through.

* * *

Two weeks later, dressed in less than clean and decidedly ragged clothing, his hair unkempt and needing a shave, Jason stood with Iolaus, Hercules and Chiron at the gates of the Academy. Iolaus had a pack over his shoulder and was explaining to Chiron what he was taking with them.

"No…no money," he assured the centaur, but looked to Jason and waited until the Prince confirmed with a nod that they were leaving penniless before continuing. "I've got some fishing hooks and line, some rags for bandages, two thin blankets and that's about it, other than the knives we're both carrying in our boots."

"Alright," their head master nodded. "What's your itinerary?"

Iolaus grinned at that…Chiron was making it sound like a classy excursion. Itinerary. Right. "Well," he replied, "Well, I thought we'd get a taste of what it's like to be homeless in the streets of Corinth for a couple of days, and then when we get tired of that, we'll head into the countryside and see if we can get a farmer to give us a place to sleep in his barn in return for doing some chores. If worst comes to worst and Jason is in danger of expiring from starvation, I'll do a little fishing."

"Fine," replied the centaur. "One last thing…for this to be a legitimate experience, you can't simply go to the palace for help, Jason. However, if it looks like you might be in real trouble, I expect you to seek whatever help you need."

Iolaus nodded but Jason simply shrugged. How much trouble could they get into in a week's time? This would be a breeze. Hercules, however, wasn't looking quite so confident as he turned to Iolaus and said quietly, "Be careful, all right?"

"You got it, buddy," Iolaus assured him, uncomfortably aware of his responsibility for the safety of the Prince of Corinth.

Nodding, the demigod turned to Jason as he counseled one last time, "Pay attention to what Iolaus tells you. He's the expert…remember that."

"Right, I've got it," Jason replied with a long-suffering air. "Iolaus is in charge. I'm the student. I'll pay attention. No problem."

Iolaus frowned a little at Jason's air of sufferance and inappropriate confidence. This was going to be tougher than the Prince could even begin to imagine. Chiron bit his lip thoughtfully, wondering if this wasn't a mistake, but Iolaus had made a good point a couple of weeks ago. Someone who was going to wear a crown needed to understand his people, needed to know the challenges of their lives. Investing confidence into his voice as he clapped Iolaus lightly on the shoulder, he said, "Off you go, then. I know you won't take any foolish chances. We'll see you in a week's time. Hercules…you need to get to your class."

Nodding reluctantly, Hercules moved away, looking back over his shoulder at his two friends as they strode past the gate on their way to 'the underside of Society'.

* * *

Watching Jason with a critical eye as they walked down the dusty road, Iolaus observed, "Your posture is all wrong. You look too confident."

"Too confident?" Jason replied, not sure what Iolaus meant. "What? I'm supposed to slouch and look down-trodden?"

Biting his lip, Iolaus shook his head. "Not exactly," he replied. "That would just make you a target for bullies. You need to look dangerous, like someone they shouldn't mess with, but…" Sighing, he rubbed the back of his neck, trying to find the words to explain. "You walk like a Prince, not a dangerous street-fighter. Relax your shoulders a little, and lower your head…amble instead of march, if you know what I mean."

Jason thought about it, rolling his head a little to relax his shoulders and consciously easing his erect posture. Turning he sauntered along for a few paces then stopped and turned back. "How's that?" he asked, more than a little amused.

"Better," Iolaus replied a little hesitantly, still bothered by something. "Try a watchful expression, as if you're on the alert for trouble or opportunity…right now, you look, I don't know, too self-satisfied and amused. There's nothing amusing about being homeless without an obal in your pocket."

Sighing, the Prince looked down, trying to school his expression. When he looked back up, the smirk was gone, replaced by a wary look. "Better?" he asked.

"Yeah…but make your eyes hard, like you've seen it all and it wouldn't take much to push you into a fight," Iolaus counseled, his own eyes going flat and cold in example.

Jason hadn't seen that look on Iolaus' face, well, not often anyway, and it gave him a chill. It was like looking at someone whose soul was dead and cold. The young Prince didn't know how to do that, much as he tried. With a look that conveyed understanding mingled with disgust at Jason's inability to get the look right, Iolaus shrugged. Part of him hoped Jason never would know how to project that kind of cold indifference and danger. "Nevermind," he said. "Just stay behind me and let me take the lead when we meet people. Oh, an' when you do talk, try not to use such complete sentences with perfect grammar. It's a dead giveaway, marking you as someone educated. Speak in phrases, drop a few syllables, sort of slurring your words, sound a little surly."

"'kay," Jason growled, agreeably, scowling for effect then breaking into a bright grin. He might not take it all seriously, and he might think this was a waste of time, but he wasn't a fool. His role in this was to watch, listen and learn so that's what he would do.

Unable to resist Jason's good mood, Iolaus grinned as well, if a trifle unwillingly, as he led out again along the narrow rutted road. They walked for another mile or so while Iolaus pondered what was still bothering him. Studying Jason again with an intent look, he finally muttered, "You're too clean."

"What?" Jason exclaimed, looked down at his ragged clothing, his lips twisting a little in disgust.

"Too clean," Iolaus repeated, looking around at the forest that surrounded them. "Go dig in the dirt and smear some of it on your arms and drag your fingers through your hair, then shake it." Knowing he was also too clean, the younger cadet led the way to the side of the road. Kneeling, he plunged his fingers into the dark, dry earth to get it under his nails, then rubbed his hands over his arms and pushed his fingers through his hair. Sighing, Jason followed suit.

"Okay, now we roll in the dust," Iolaus directed as he dropped down on the rutted road and rolled a couple of times, then stood to brush the residue off his clothes. Rolling his eyes, Jason did the same and then they each brushed down the other's back to remove the surface grit.

Cocking his head, Iolaus examined Jason from head to toe then went back to pick up some of the earth with his fingertips, returning to smear some along the side of the Prince's face and jaw. Jason flinched but forced himself to stand stoically while Iolaus smudged the earth until there was a dark stain of it on his friend's face.

Nodding, Iolaus stood back and rubbed his own chin as he again studied the Prince. "We both need to look more disheveled and tired. So…for the next five miles, we run toward town." Without another word, he turned and launched into a flat out run, calling over his shoulder, "Catch me…if you can!"

Never one to refuse a challenge, Jason took off after him, surprised to find it harder than he'd imagined to catch the smaller youth. Pouring on the speed and still not catching up, the Prince had to admit to himself that the kid was fast.

* * *

By the time they arrived at the edge of town, they were grubby and sweaty. Jason felt hot, filthy and thirsty. Keeping his complaints to himself, he followed Iolaus through the gate and along the narrow, winding streets, trying to mimic the way Iolaus moved…like an animal stalking prey, with an easy, sinuous grace, subtly threatening and hinting of danger. Iolaus' expression had gone flat, his eyes constantly monitoring their environment and the people who crowded around them. When one of the soldiers of the guard passed by, he turned his head away, not with an obvious jerk, just as if he was looking in the other direction, but always, always making sure they'd not get a look at his face.

Alert, wanting to learn, finding himself fascinated by this change in his usually open and straight-forward comrade, Jason did his best to act in kind. Besides, he really didn't want to take the chance of any of his father's soldiers recognizing him.

They made their way to the main market square, and Jason blew out a sigh of relief when Iolaus headed straight to the common well. Picking up the dipper that hung on the side of the winch, the blond filled it from a bucket on the stone skirt of the well, and once he'd drunk his fill, he handed the dipper to Jason, who accepted it gratefully. He felt as if he'd swallowed the dust of the road, not just rolled in it.

His thirst quenched, Jason eyed the fruits, cheeses, breads and meats on display around them. The square was packed with stalls, congested with shoppers, mostly women, but he also noticed street urchins and a few men loafing lethargically against the walls of the shops. "I'm hungry," he murmured.

"Get used to it," Iolaus replied as he too looked around. "We don't have any money to buy food. So, unless you want to beg or steal…"

Beg? Steal? Shaking his head, Jason figured he wasn't that hungry. Cutting the taller cadet a knowing look, Iolaus smiled sparingly. Jason was too proud to beg and too righteous to steal…but, then, he hadn't been hungry for very long yet.

Moseying idly among the crowded stalls, Iolaus chatted up the vendors in a casual way, as if he was looking for work. "You've some fine wares here," he observed as he avidly studied the display of well-crafted knives on a plank in front of one booth.

The craftsman eyed them warily with no little disgust. Well, they were sweaty, filthy and looked like they didn't have a dinar between them. "Move along," he replied shortly. "You're blocking those who might actually buy something."

Raising his hands peacefully, Iolaus replied, "Hey, no offense…I was just being sociable. No need to be surly."

Jason had been surprised by the tone of voice and the steely, unfriendly look in the vendor's eyes. He wasn't used to being treated in such a disparaging manner. "Hey," he interjected, offended. "We're just looking, alright. Is this the way you treat all your potential customers?"

"It's the way I treat riff-raff," the man spat out. "Move along before I call the guard."

Iolaus gave Jason a shove to move him on down the narrow aisle between stalls. "Watch and listen," he muttered to his taller companion. "Don't provoke the locals."

Jason bristled, but then allowed Iolaus to move him along when he saw the vendor looking about for a handy guardsman. Muttering under his breath, he demanded, "What right does he have to treat us like dirt?"

"We are dirt," Iolaus replied succinctly, then pasted an ingratiating smile on his face as he approached another stall, this one selling leatherwork…belts, vests, pouches, scabbards and the like. "Good day, citizen," he said brightly. "Looks like a nice town. Do y' know of anywhere a man could find some work?"

Shrugging indifferently, the old tanner replied, "No, lad, I don't. Sorry." The old man's lips twisted a little in disgust at their unkempt appearance, but he wasn't unkind by nature. "You might try up at the palace. They're known, sometimes, to take on extra help to muck out the stalls."

"Right, thanks," Iolaus replied moving along. At the next stall he stopped at, one selling cloaks and other woven goods, he tried chatting up the weaver. "Looks a prosperous place…peaceful," he observed.

"Aye," the man replied affably enough, though still imparting a warning to the two scruffy transients. "The king doesn't like a fuss…keeps a tight rein, he does. Lots of guards about to keep order."

"Uh huh," Iolaus nodded, still smiling. "A good place for a man to settle and find a place for himself. Do y' know of any work that me and my friend might find?"

Shaking his head, the weaver wasn't encouraging. "No…we can make a decent living, but there's not much extra to go around. Times are a little tight," he explained.

Nodding in understanding, letting his smile fade into a look of discouragement, Iolaus replied, "Well, thanks anyway."

He kept up his patter for the rest of that afternoon, while Jason dogged his heels. As the hours wore on, the Prince found himself frowning at the constantly indifferent or unhelpful replies. What did someone who didn't have work do to survive? How did he find work when there didn't appear to be any to be had? Without a wage, how did a man eat? The Prince also continued to be nettled by the obvious assumptions that most made of them, based upon their poor appearance. If they really were poor travelers, they'd have a hard time keeping themselves in a state of pristine cleanliness. Did a little dirt and ragged clothing really warrant such disdain and distrust?

Iolaus kept a watchful eye on Jason and could guess at the older cadet's thoughts. "Would you welcome or trust someone who looked like we do?" he asked blandly.

"Well, I…" Jason wanted to protest but in all honesty he couldn't.

"Fact of life…appearances really do make a difference," Iolaus stated. "Fact of life…when you don't have a job, it's hard to find one. When you're a stranger in a city, no one gives you the benefit of the doubt. When you're poor, it's hard to find a way to make enough money to feed yourself without a trade or a skill, without a mentor or someone to apprentice yourself to. It's one reason that so many men with nothing else join the army or hire out as mercenaries…at least it means regular meals and a roof over your head…well, unless you're at war, and then you have the chance for some good pillage of the spoils."

Jason sighed and began to wonder if this learning experience was going to be as easy as he'd anticipated. His skin itched from the dirt and the filthy, rough clothing. He was hot and tired and hungry. They had nowhere to go…and signing up as a soldier wasn't an option that was open to them. But, he wasn't about to admit that all the soldiers in his father's army were only there for the free food. "Some soldiers join up for adventure," he argued. "And some really want to defend their city."

"Some," Iolaus allowed, "but not as many as you'd like to believe."

Looking away, Jason pondered what Iolaus had just said. "Well, if poor men join the army, what do poor women do?"

"Beg or sell what they have," Iolaus responded, sounding a little weary.

"What if they don't have anything to sell?" Jason asked, then could have bitten his tongue for having asked such a stupid question.

"Women always have something to sell," Iolaus replied tightly. "Few live long enough on the streets to lose the value of their bodies. It's also what young boys and girls sell when begging and stealing isn't enough to survive."

"Gods," the Prince murmured as he looked around with new eyes. He'd known that, of course, in an intellectual and remote way. But, he'd never spent hours really looking at the orphans who wandered the streets, or gazed into the hopeless eyes of the impoverished women who didn't even spare him a second glance. He was used to women looking at him with a certain admiration…but these women only saw that he could not afford their price and so was useless to them. "It's not right…there should be a place for the poor to go for food and shelter."

"Well, when you're the King, you can provide that safe haven," Iolaus remarked dryly, but then he turned to look up into Jason's eyes. "But, you know, your father is not an unfeeling man. I suspect there isn't enough gold in the palace vaults to provide forever for everyone who needs food and shelter, even in a wealthy place like Corinth. And…do you think these hardworking souls, who pay their taxes, would want to see their hard-earned money squandered on those they consider just too plain lazy to make their own way in the world?"

Jason didn't answer, just swallowed as he turned his head away to again study the vendors who clearly were making only enough for themselves and their own families. After a moment, he asked, "Then, what's the answer?"

Iolaus blew out a long breath as he shook his head. "Honestly? I don't know, Jase. There will always be people who are poor, who lack the skills to fend for themselves…or the wit. Maybe if more than food or shelter could be provided…maybe if all the kids were required to get some basic education and learn a trade…maybe if there were hostels for those who lack the capacity to learn or to take care of themselves because they are sick or insane. Maybe if people cared more about other people, about strangers…maybe the homeless and the wretched of the earth would be sheltered and protected, not feared and despised."

As they'd talked quietly, the vendors had begun to close up their stalls for the night. The day was waning and it was time for good, honest citizens to be heading home to their dinners and their beds. Jason felt the cramp of hunger, and as the sun slipped behind the walls of the city, he shivered a little in the cool shadow left behind.

"Now what?" he asked, wondering where Iolaus planned to spend the night.

"Now we wander, to keep moving to stay warm until we're too tired to stay awake," Iolaus replied, leading Jason into an alley, heading toward the seamier side of town.

Within minutes, they'd left the respectable precincts of the main square and had wandered into a rundown lane teeming with small taverns. The area was crowded with tough looking men of all ages, while women wearing provocative shifts and garish makeup sauntered up and down, smiling cheekily at whistles and catcalls. The air was redolent of stale wine and ale, and the less pleasant odours of the unwashed and those who couldn't hold their drink. Iolaus' demeanor had changed again from the harmless wanderer to the dangerous transient, the way he moved fairly screaming out that it would be trouble to mess with him.

"How do you do that?" Jason asked quietly from his spot just behind Iolaus' shoulder.

"Do what?" the smaller man muttered back.

"Look so, I don't know, dangerous," the Prince replied. "You move differently…liked a panther or a coiled snake ready to attack."

"I am dangerous," Iolaus grunted, turning hard eyes up to meet the questioning candour in his comrade's gaze. Jason took a step back at the expression and tone, the cold, flat menace that Iolaus projected so effortlessly.

"Back at the Academy, you play the role of class clown," Jason murmured, beginning to understand that there was a lot more to Iolaus than he'd ever thought.

"Back at the Academy, I'm safe," Iolaus replied. "Out here, on the streets, the only people who are safe are the ones who can take care of themselves, who know how to fight if need be…fight to win. Losing isn't just a matter of a few bruises out here…losing can easily mean you're dead."

Swallowing, Jason nodded tightly as he looked around at the other toughs. No coward, a skilled warrior in his own right, the Prince straightened a little, his chin coming up belligerently. He'd like to see anyone try to kill him…he could take on this sorry lot with one hand tied behind his back. Iolaus saw the toughness enter the Prince's face, and the cold calculation come into his eyes. Sighing a little, he reflected that Jason had finally gotten the look he hadn't been able to master earlier…the look that said he could kill if he had to.

Turning away, Iolaus again led off along the bustling, crowded street leaving Jason to think about what he was observing, what he was learning about other people…and himself. Most gave them a wide berth, feeling the menace Iolaus projected for their safety. But, they could both feel hard eyes studying them covertly, assessing them.

"What are they looking at…or for?" Jason queried about an hour later, feeling the skin crawl on the back of his neck as he looked over his shoulder, catching some of the watchful gazes before the other men looked away.

"Who?" asked Iolaus.

"The ones who are watching us so closely," the Prince replied, looking down at his friend.

Shrugging, Iolaus paused their ceaseless rambling through the back streets and alleys as he looked around, returning hard gazes until others dropped their eyes, pretending indifference. "They're wondering who we are, why we're here," he replied quietly. "Some wonder if we present a new danger, so they watch us for any sign of threat. Others are wondering if we're moving into their territory, and if so, how much trouble we'll be to discourage. A few are weighing us up as possible new members of their gangs, wondering if we're as tough as we look. The ones who look hungry and a little shifty are afraid of being victims. The ones who look reasonably well fed and aggressive are thieves and murderers who prey upon the weak and take what little they have. The ones who aren't paying any attention to us are just ordinary guys, out for a few drinks and some light entertainment…they don't live on the streets, they just pass through. See that one over there, the one in the good quality clothes with the oiled hair? He's a good example of the sort who troll these streets, looking for the kind of entertainment he can't get at home…most likely a merchant who travels from town to town and samples the fun to be had to alleviate his boredom."

Iolaus' voice had hardened as he alluded to the traveling merchant's likely predilections, his face going flat and his eyes a little haunted. To lighten the mood, Jason quirked a wry smile, as he asked with dry humor, "Wouldn't it be easier for most of these men to be soldiers? They could be assured of food and maybe even a little plunder in a war."

"Most of this lot don't have enough self-discipline to take orders from someone else, and there aren't enough billets in any barracks to house them all," Iolaus replied. "But, don't kid yourself, Jason…there are many soldiers who are bullies, who use their strength, skill and weapons to brutalize others legitimately…who like the violence and the power. Those who command armies need to know that and need to be watchful, taking whatever disciplinary action is necessary to keep such brutes in line."

"Another 'fact of life'?" the Prince asked rhetorically, not expecting an answer.

But, Iolaus nodded as if the question had been seriously meant. "Yep…one a man who will command armies needs to know well."

As they'd spoken quietly, the merchant Iolaus had studied briefly had also noticed them. Cocking his head thoughtfully, the tall, heavy-set man smiled faintly then ambled across the busy lane until he'd come up behind them.

"Looking for a little fun, lad?" he whispered theatrically in Iolaus' ear, causing the cadet to start in surprise as he wheeled away from the fingers that were lightly tracing a path along his bare arm.

"Get off," he snarled up at the man. "Go bother someone who's interested in slime like you."

"No offense, Bright Eyes," the older man smiled ingratiatingly at the blond haired youth as he stroked his chin with fingers laden with heavy rings and completely ignored Jason who was watching the incident play out with an almost morbid fascination…a little like a rabbit staring at a mongoose.

Frowning as he studied the bigger man, Iolaus paled a little as he took a step back. Swallowing, trying to retain his indignant bluster, the cadet shook his head as he muttered, "No offense taken…just shove off."

"As you wish, lad," the merchant allowed with a slight inclination of his head. But, as he turned away, he paused for a moment to give both Jason and Iolaus a knowing look before turning a gaze heavy with meaning back to the smaller cadet as he murmured, "I'll be around town for a couple of days if you change your mind."

"Not likely," Iolaus snorted as he forced himself to turn away, taking Jason by the arm to move off in the opposite direction.

Fighting a nervous giggle, Jason choked out, "Was that what I think it was?"

But Iolaus seemed distracted, as if he hadn't heard the question, intent only on making their way out of that street through an alley to another part of the neighbourhood. The younger cadet hadn't recognized the man…but that ring was unforgettable. He could still remember the bite of it cutting his face when he'd been back-handed hard…gods, he'd hoped never to have the bad luck of ever seeing that guy again.

Jason became aware of his friend's barely suppressed agitation, and then he noticed that Iolaus wasn't moving like a confident streetwise bully anymore, but more like a frightened youth, hurrying to get away from danger. Concerned, the Prince caught his friend by the arm and turned him around to face him, but Iolaus wouldn't make eye contact.

"What's wrong?" Jason asked, puzzled. "I mean, I know he was obnoxious, but…"

"Nothing's wrong," Iolaus cut in, then took a deep breath as he pulled his arm away. "Creeps like him make me sick, that's all."

"Another 'fact of life'?" Jason asked, frowning thoughtfully.

Turning, Iolaus muttered bitterly, "You could say that…yeah, you could say that."

"Iolaus…?" the Prince called, certain there was more to this than his friend was admitting.

"Let it go, Jase," Iolaus almost snarled over his shoulder. "There are some 'facts of life' you really don't want to ever know."

Startled by the vehemence, Jason stared after his friend's retreating back. Looking thoughtfully back down the alley from which they'd just come, he shook his head then hurried to catch up with the younger cadet.

* * *

It was late by the time Iolaus led his comrade into another alley he'd noted earlier. Open at both ends, it gave an escape route. Short, with light splashing into it from the torches on the street, it wasn't too isolated, too dark for safety. "We'll sleep here," he explained, leaning back against a filthy wall of stone and sliding down along it until he was sitting against it.

Jason looked around at the rubbish and the stony ground. He was hungry and cold, but he was also almost too tired to care. Wandering around aimlessly was exhausting…as was keeping a constant watch for possible assault. Sighing, he rubbed his arms against the chill, then slid down to sit beside Iolaus. "Who gets the first watch?" he asked wearily.

"I'll take it," Iolaus replied, while he dug into his pack and hauled out the two thin blankets, tossing one to Jason while he pulled the other around his own shoulders. "Normally, we probably wouldn't need to bother, but these blankets are tempting. If we both slept at the same time, we wouldn't still have them in the morning."

Jason gazed briefly at the thin, tattered scrap of material before he pulled it around his shoulders and let his head fall back against the wall. Yesterday, he'd have thrown the thing in a rubbish bin…but tonight, he'd already learned enough to understand that for some, this wretched piece of cloth would be as valuable as silver. "I'm hungry," he groused, deciding he really wasn't enjoying this little adventure.

"You'll get hungrier," Iolaus assured him with a dry chuckle.

"Oh good," the Prince muttered as he tried to relax into sleep. "Something to look forward to…"

* * *

The next two days were more of the same, or at least they seemed so to Jason. His feet had begun to hurt from the ill-fitting thin boots he was wearing and his head pounded from the lack of adequate sleep and proper nourishment. His belly was cramped with hunger and he wondered how Iolaus could seem so unaffected by what they were experiencing. The smaller cadet never complained and, frankly, didn't seem as tired. "How do you do it?" the Prince asked.

"Do what?" Iolaus wondered, looking up at his friend.

"Survive this without seeming to be bothered by it?" Jason elaborated. "You don't seem to feel the hunger or the cold. You don't seem to get tired."

Something flashed in Iolaus' eyes before he looked away. "It bothers me," he finally replied. "I'm just more used to it. Grumbling or whining about it doesn't help. Besides," he shrugged philosophically, "we're a long way from starving to death yet and in a few more days, we get to go back to the Academy so it isn't so bad."

Despite Iolaus' mild tone, or perhaps because of it, Jason felt as if he'd been slapped. How could he have forgotten that Iolaus had lived like this for almost two years, homeless, probably feeling hopeless. "How did you survive like this for so long?" he asked then, his voice low.

Sighing, Iolaus quirked a wry grin. "Well, I was too young to be a soldier, so that option was out. Now you know why I started stealing. When no one will give you work, and you've got no place to go, well, after a while, you either starve or do what you have to do to survive," he replied.

Unable to hold Iolaus' candid gaze, thinking about what he'd seen and experienced in just a few days of penniless poverty, looking around at the homeless waifs who haunted the marketplace and alleys and the men who wandered through, leering at the children and the women, Jason consciously pushed away his memories of what Iolaus had told him was sometimes necessary to survive. No wonder his friend had become a thief. Frowning, he looked back down at his younger friend. "How did you end up living on the streets, Iolaus? If you couldn't live at home, why didn't you go to Hercules and Alcmene?" he asked, curious. "Hercules has never really explained that to me."

"Herc doesn't know," Iolaus replied shortly as he looked away. "I had my reasons." His tight voice and closed expression made it clear that he didn't plan to share them.

"But…" Jason began, really wanting to know more about what had happened to Iolaus.

Before he could continue, however, Iolaus shook his head briefly, then turned with a light hand on Jason's arm, ambling with feigned casualness down the alley behind them. Startled, alerted by the look in Iolaus' eyes that something was wrong, the Prince lapsed into silence as he followed. They'd only taken a few steps into the shelter of the alleyway when Iolaus stopped and turned back. "Jase…I think something's going on here…"

"What are you talking about?" his colleague demanded, having caught the tension and concern in Iolaus' eyes.

"I'm not sure but…" the smaller youth began, wondering if he was imagining things. Biting his lip thoughtfully, he continued, "Over the last couple of days, I've been noticing a few things you might have missed. There're a few soldiers who do more than patrol…I've seen them hassling some of the kids and younger women…and I've seen people look frightened at the sight of them. Soldiers usually mean some measure of protection and security, not danger. And…well, over the past couple of days, I've noticed that some of the kids and the prettier prostitutes are maybe disappearing."

"Disappearing?" Jason repeated, shaking his head. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, it's just that the poor and homeless tend to work the same areas, stay in the same general places. They know where they are and where to get a handout or food, where to find their usual shelter…and well, frankly, they look out for one another. So, it's unusual for them to wander away. One or two maybe…but not as many as I've noticed have gone missing," Iolaus explained.

Frowning, Jason queried, "What do you think it means?"

"I think, maybe, some of the soldiers might be into a lucrative sideline. It's possible that they're rounding up homeless kids or defenceless women and selling them into slavery," Iolaus suggested.

"You're kidding, right" Jason replied with a look of astonishment, not at all sure he believed it.

"No…I could be wrong, though," Iolaus allowed, but he didn't think he was mistaken. When he saw the soldiers he'd noticed a few minutes before studying them a little too intently suddenly appear in the mouth of the alley, he turned to lead Jason the other way, then cursed softly. He'd led them into a lane that had no exit.

Jason turned at the sound of the firm steps of the soldiers as they advanced toward them.

"Let me do the talking," Iolaus mumbled as he stepped a little in front of his taller friend.

"What are you two up to?" the one wearing the insignia of authority demanded as he grabbed Iolaus' arm roughly and gave him almost an absent-minded cuff across one ear to get his attention.

"We're not 'up to' anything," Iolaus replied, keeping his voice carefully mild, ignoring the minor assault and clear threat while he held one arm rigidly down in front of Jason, who'd given a low growl at the abuse. Shrugging, he cast a quick look up at Jason that warned his friend to keep his cool, then turned his gaze back at the soldiers. "We came into town a couple of days ago, looking for work…but so far, we haven't had much luck."

"Uh huh," grunted the solder, eying them narrowly. He'd noticed the small one watching them over the past couple of days, not that it mattered. They were just a couple of young tramps, no doubt looking for action and bound to find trouble…but, there was something about the taller one that had bothered him. Stepping closer, he studied Jason, who lowered his head under the scrutiny, trying unobtrusively to keep his features hidden. "You look familiar," the soldier mused with a thoughtful frown. "You've been around town before."

"Once or twice," Iolaus allowed, shifting to draw the soldier's gaze back to him and away from Jason. "We work outside of town on a farm, but both of us would rather find something in the city, so we keep coming back, hoping for better fortune."

"Troublemakers aren't welcome in Corinth," the soldier growled, fingering the wooden, iron tipped baton in his hands.

"No sir," Iolaus replied, swallowing as he wondered if the soldier planned to beat them or haul them off to prison. The cadet hoped it wouldn't come to that…he could hardly let the Prince be beaten by one of his father's own soldiers who would then be severely punished for having unwittingly assaulted a member of the royal family. Best to just try to talk their way out of this. "We're not making trouble…just looking for work," the cadet said with wide innocent eyes and a disarmingly ingratiating smile.

Nodding as he listened, unconsciously appeased by the guileless manner of an innocent peasant, the senior soldier looked at his comrade who shrugged. He didn't recognize either of these young tramps, though he agreed with his superior that there was something about the taller one that raised the hackles on his back. Turning back to the two scruffy youths, the senior soldier finally replied with a heavy tone of threat, "I suggest that the two of you would find the countryside a healthier environment. There's not much work in the city these days for uncouth oafs like you who haven't the sense or skill to make yourselves useful."

Nodding agreeably, Iolaus held his tongue, trying to look thoughtful, impressed and a little unnerved all at the same time. Without another word, the two soldiers turned and marched out of the dim alley and after a moment, Iolaus blew out a long breath of relief. "Did you recognize them?" he asked.

"No," Jason replied, "but it sounds like they've seen me often enough to know there's something about me they should remember. The dirt and rags are probably confusing them…but they might put it together."

"Yeah," Iolaus agreed with a frown. Rubbing the back of his neck, he reflected, "We've spent enough time on the streets for you to see that most of these people don't spend their time worrying about how to show their loyalty to the king…either they're too poor to care, or they're working too hard to feed their families to spend time worrying about what the king might need of them. It might be best to take their advice and get out of town. We really can't afford to have them realize who you are."

"Why not?" Jason replied. "They might think it strange to find their Prince wandering around like a homeless person, but then at least they'd leave us alone."

Looking up at Jason, Iolaus shook his head. "No, I don't think it would be as easy as that. They are two of the soldiers I've noticed hassling the kids…if I'm right, and they figure out who you are, then we could both be in a lot of trouble."

"Iolaus," Jason protested, "imagining that members of the guard are parties to slavery is a little far-fetched. My father abolished slavery in Corinth before I was born…there's no way his own soldiers would be engaged in the trade."

"I hope you're right," Iolaus replied, but he sounded unconvinced.

* * *

For the next couple of hours, Iolaus tried to glean more information while keeping an alert eye out for the soldiers. Though the other homeless were still a little wary of them, the two cadets had been around long enough to be known to some extent. And, though the rich never realized it, the homeless looked out for one another, helped one another when they could. So when Iolaus posed his questions to several of the urchins and a couple of the young women plying their trade, his suspicions were quickly confirmed.

"Aye," one young lady acknowledged. "You have to be careful of the guards. Most are alright, like, just keeping order, but there're some who're dangerous. They can be rough…and it seems once they've taken an interest in ya, ya soon disappear."

"My brother went missing t'other night," one waif confided, looking worried and very frightened. "We'd split up, to find somethin' to eat, on'y Lortius never come back. I've looked ever'where for 'im and asked around, but nobody has seen 'im. Like the others, he just dis'ppeared."

"Others?" Iolaus repeated. "How many others?"

The young prostitute shrugged as she and the boy exchanged glances. "I don't know, for sure," she replied hesitantly, frowning as she tried to remember. "But, in the last year or so, I'd guess more than thirty have gone missing."

"Thirty?" Jason echoed, appalled as he looked from their two informants to Iolaus.

The smaller cadet frowned and shook his head. Then he turned and thanked the others for their information, warning them to be careful.

Straightening from where he'd been kneeling to talk to the boy, Iolaus chewed on his lip as he thought it out.

"We need to get this information to my father," Jason stated matter of factly.

"What information?" Iolaus countered with a frown. "That some homeless people have vanished? That some of the soldiers can be a little 'rough'? That's not information…not yet, at least."

"No? Then what do you suggest we do?" Jason demanded, frustrated.

Looking up at him with a speculative gleam in his eyes, Iolaus replied, "I'd suggest that I do a little hunting…and that you go home until you hear from me."

"No way," Jason shook his head emphatically. "I'm not turning tail and running home like some kid who can't take care of himself. We'll both do a little hunting."

"Jason, this isn't a game," Iolaus cautioned, seriously worried about the Prince's safety. If the guilty soldiers got wind of their surveillance, it could cost both of their lives. "You don't know how to fade into the background…if they spot us, or recognize you…"

"Look, I'm not leaving you to do this on your own," Jason replied adamantly. "Either we both go to Chiron with what we suspect, since you don't think we've got enough to go to my father, or we both get the information we need to prove what's going on. This is my City, Iolaus…my people. What happens to them is my responsibility."

For a moment, Iolaus gave Jason a long considering look, then nodded. "You're going to make a fine King, Jason," he murmured, then grinned. "But, don't ever feel you need to remind me that I said that!"

Laughing, Jason followed Iolaus as the smaller cadet turned and faded into the crowd, warily following the soldiers he'd spotted heading down the next street.

* * *

"Stay here," Iolaus hissed to his comrade, then left Jason in the shadows of the alley as he crept forward carefully. It had fallen dark some hours before and they'd once again been prowling the seedier back streets on the trail of the soldiers Iolaus suspected. A few moments before, he'd seen them slip into the mouth of an alley and he wanted to find out if they'd gone out the back way or if they were still in there. Keeping to the cover of larger men, he made his way unobtrusively to the far side of the street and then sidled along until he had reached the edge of the alley. Cutting a quick look inside, he spotted the soldiers only a few feet away, deep in conversation. Hastily, he pulled back, trying to look inconspicuous as he loitered against the wall.

"We've enough, I tell you, for the next shipment," one was saying, sounding petulant and stubborn.

"And I'm telling you we could use a couple more to enrich the sale," the other replied firmly. Since he was the ranking soldier, he knew his view carried the day. "Another kid or two will be easy to pick up tonight and spirit out of town."

"Fine, have it your way," grumbled the other half-heartedly. He was lazy by nature and would have quit with what they had, but his boss was right…more slaves meant more dinars for all of them. Given that there were five soldiers involved in this profitable scheme of ridding Corinth of a few undesirables, the proceeds didn't go all that far.

Iolaus slipped away from the alley, again blending with the crowd until he got back to Jason. "We're in luck," he murmured quietly, keeping his eyes on the alleyway across the street, watching as the soldiers emerged and moved away. "They're going to kidnap a couple more kids and take them to wherever they are holding others out of town tonight. If we don't lose them, we'll get all the information we need for your father…and maybe get to free a few enslaved kids as well."

With a look of grim determination on his face, Jason replied quietly, "Then lead on, oh mighty hunter. Let's see where this trail leads."

* * *

Keeping to the shadows as much as possible, hanging back far enough not to be noticed but without losing sight of his quarry, Iolaus was still unconsciously moving with the tough, dangerous demeanor that kept others from accosting him. But, Jason, intent on the hunt, forgot to modify his behaviours, the air of a young tough slipping away as his more natural air of an angry young Prince came to the fore.

It won him the wrong kind of attention.

"Well, don't you look like you think you're someone special," growled a heavyset man of about thirty who took exception to the haughty airs the young tramp had assumed. "And in a hurry, are you? What are you late for a ball at the palace?"

The last comment was met with appreciative snickers from others in his gang as he stepped boldly into Jason's path.

"Get out of my way," the young Prince ordered, chin up and eyes flashing.

"Who are you to be ordering me around?" snarled the troublemaker.

Jason grimaced at the foul fumes of sour ale lingering heavily on the man's breath. Impatient, he shoved the fellow away, only to have his arm caught in a powerful grip as another assailant pulled him around and slammed a fist into his jaw.

Jason staggered back, and then surged forward, fists up as he gave back better than he'd gotten. But the first man had pulled an ugly blade from his belt and was waving it about in a manner that could definitely be considered hostile.

Iolaus had heard the scuffle and turned, scowling at the delay. Shaking his head, he muttered to himself, "We don't have time for this." The last thing they needed was to attract unwanted attention with a big fight, so best that this be taken care of quickly. Moving in, he thrust out a leg and swept the big man off his feet, efficiently clubbing him into unconsciousness with a swift elbow jab behind his ear as he went down. In a blaze of motion, Iolaus wheeled around, and leapt, kicking high and knocking a second man to the ground, dazed and immobile. Jason had rendered his own assailant unconscious and was looking around for more action. As several other men crowded in close, Iolaus whipped his knife from his boot and held it in front of him as he asked with deadly and frightening calm, "Who wants to be the first to die?"

There was something in his voice and eyes that told them he wasn't joking. Startled by the aggression, and by how quickly these two young punks had already dealt with their comrades, the erstwhile bullies paused and reflected for a moment on the choices at hand. The flash of light on Iolaus' blade had an amazingly sobering effect, and one by one, they pulled back and faded away into the crowd.

Taking Jason's arm, Iolaus growled, "Come on, we're losing them." And then they were both striding swiftly through the crowded street, headed in the direction Iolaus had last seen the soldiers take. For a few breathless minutes, they thought they'd lost their quarry, but then a short, sharp cry from an alley a block away led them in that direction…only to have to swiftly cringe into the shadows as they saw the soldiers emerge, one of them with a heavy sack slung over his shoulder.

Both cadets felt a surge of impotent rage as they realized that bag concealed a homeless child who'd just been assaulted with the intent of selling him into slavery. Once again on the trail, they followed cautiously, having to bite back their fury as they witnessed another child being clubbed into unconsciousness. Much as they hated to just stand by and watch, they knew they couldn't intervene yet, or they'd lose the chance to maybe find others who had been taken captive.

As the soldiers moved through the streets toward the gates, and the crowd thinned, the two cadets had to hang farther back, lest they be seen. But, once they were away from the light of the city's torches, they didn't dare let the soldiers get too far ahead. In the darkness, they'd be too easy to lose.

For more than an hour, they followed like silent shadows until, finally, the soldiers came to an old abandoned stone croft. Unbarring its heavy oaken door, they unceremoniously tossed the two sacks they were carrying inside, ignoring the cries of fear and entreaty from others that were already trapped there.

"Shut up," one snarled, as he slammed the door shut and again secured it with a heavy crossbar. "Come on," he said to the other, "we've got to get back to Corinth before we're missed."

Iolaus and Jason hung back until the soldiers had passed by, then crept quietly up to the small, sturdy building. "An old storage shed or abandoned croft," Iolaus remarked softly.

"Yeah," agreed Jason, as he lifted the bar to unblock the door and carefully set it aside. They were being stealthily quiet because the two soldiers heading toward town weren't all that far away yet. But, when he opened the heavy door, the hinges creaked loudly. Over the sound of soft whimpers and shuffling from inside, they heard a sudden shout.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" cried a strange voice.

The darkness of a moonless night and clouds scudding across the sky, blocking the starlight, had worked for them so far in aiding their furtive surveillance. But, it had also hidden the sentry who had been lounging against a nearby tree. The soldiers had acknowledged his presence silently, so the two cadets had no idea that the croft was being guarded…though, ruefully, they both realized they should have guessed.

Jason pulled the door wider as Iolaus turned to face their adversary. The soldier had drawn his sword as he moved to intercept these intruders who seemed intent upon freeing the captives. Swinging his pack hard, Iolaus knocked the sword aside, then launched a kick into the man's chest, driving him backward. Jason called to the captives, urging them out of the small stone building, making certain that the two kids lying unconscious in the sacks were cut loose.

He'd just turned back to see if Iolaus needed any help when yet another soldier emerged from the darkness and thrust a sword at him. Jumping back, Jason found himself hard against the stone wall of the small building. He kicked out and lunged away, but wasn't fast enough. The soldier rushed forward, slashing down and caught Jason's leg, cutting deeply.

"Ugghhh!" Jason grunted in stunned shock, groaning with the pain as the soldier pulled the sword out of his body. Iolaus whirled at the sound, crying out his friend's name when he saw Jason stagger, one hand reaching unconsciously to cover his wound and stem the spurting flow of blood, and then fall forward. The second guard was torn between finishing Jason off and keeping the captives from leaving by threatening them with his sword. Frightened, they backed further into the shadows of the croft.

Without hesitation, Iolaus pulled his knife from his boot. "Back off," he ordered, without much hope of being obeyed.

Nor was he. The soldier turned with a snarl and lunged toward him, slashing his sword viciously in a killing blow. Iolaus threw his blade unerringly, even as he dove out of the way. With a startled cry, the soldier dropped his sword to pull at the blade in his chest, then keeled over. Rolling back to his feet, Iolaus saw the first guard come at him again. Kicking out, he drove the man back…going after him, whirling to kick higher, he clipped the man's jaw, knocking him into unconsciousness.

Without pausing for breath, Iolaus tore across the ground between him and Jason, dropping to his knees to pull the other cadet over onto his back. "Jason!" he called, even as he squinted in the darkness, feeling for the wound. The abundance of warm, pulsing blood scared him. Gods, Jase was in big trouble.

Jason groaned as he struggled to hold onto consciousness.

"He's hurt bad," a young tremulous voice observed from behind Iolaus' right shoulder.

Turning to the boy, Iolaus agreed, "Yeah, he is." He could hear the sounds of pounding feet as the first two soldiers, alerted by the sounds of the battle, now raced back. They had to get away from here. "Look, you all have to run as fast you can away from here before they get you again," Iolaus directed the captives even as he hauled Jason upwards, until the taller cadet was standing unsteadily, leaning heavily on Iolaus.

"You need help," the kid said, moving to Jason's other side to lend his own shoulder for support. With no time to argue, checking only to ensure the others had already faded away into the shadows, Iolaus allowed the tall child to help him drag Jason into the darkness, heading toward the edge of the nearby forest.

They'd barely disappeared from view when they heard shouts and curses from behind them. Moving as quietly as possible, Iolaus guided them more deeply into the woods and then eased Jason down in the shelter of a thick growth of shrubbery. Wordlessly, he pulled off his own ragged shirt and twisted it to bind it around Jason's leg to stem the flow of blood. They could hear the crash of pursuers muddling through the forest, but desperately hoped it would be impossible to find their trail in the darkness.

The soldiers were close enough for their curses and words to be clearly heard as they blundered past not twenty feet away. "They're gone," one snarled. "We'll never find them in the dark."

"Maybe not…but we'll have to find them come the dawn," the other replied, his voice hard and determined.

"Why, what does it matter?" the first challenged, the lazy one. "They've cost us a fine profit, but if we leave Marius in a ditch, no one will know what happened to him. Best just to cut our losses."

"Fool," a third voice cut in, sounding a little slurred and Iolaus figured it was the one he'd knocked out. "We have to find them…and kill them."

"Why?" the second voice demanded.

"Because I think I recognized them," came the response. "Marius got one of 'em with his sword…and the other called out, 'Jason'. It was the Prince that Marius stabbed, I'm sure of it."

"The Prince! Are you crazy? How can you be so sure?" demanded the surly, determined voice.

"Because the other one was the little blond guy that Prince Jason brought to the palace with Hercules for the big party a month ago. I was on the gate when they arrived and I remember the kid. He's just a runt, but he fights like a Fury…he killed Marius and knocked me on my ass, that's for sure," the third man insisted, certain of his facts.

"Damn it," snarled the angry man. "Alright, let's move Marius' body. Gorgo, you head back to the barracks…you'll be missed if you aren't there to go on duty in the morning. Memnon and I will get rid of Marius' body and then come back here and track them as soon as it's light. They can't get far if the Prince is badly wounded."

Iolaus held Jason against his chest, one hand pressed down upon his friend's wound while Jason bit his lip to keep from crying out from pain as they listened to the receding footsteps. The boy trembled beside them, frightened of being caught again by those brutal men.

They let the silence fall around them, listening intently for any sound that might signal that not all the soldiers had left. Finally, Iolaus bent close to Jason's ear as he whispered, "Do you think you can walk?"

"Yeah," grunted the Prince. He was in considerable pain, weak from days without food and light-headed, but he'd be damned if he'd be a handicap. They needed to get as far away as possible before the sun came up. "Back to the city?" he asked, thinking longingly of clean sheets and the healer's care.

"No, we can't risk it," Iolaus murmured. "We don't know which soldiers we can trust and which ones might as soon kill us as help us. We have to head through the forest…there's a farm about a mile away on the other side."

Wearily, Jason nodded his agreement. Iolaus looked from his friend to the boy beside them. "You should go on…if they catch up with us, they'll kill you, too."

The kid swallowed hard but shook his head. "No…you'll need help to get him away from here."

Touched by both the child's courage and his very canny assessment of the situation, Iolaus smiled wanly. "Thanks…what's your name, anyway?"

"Lortius," the kid replied, then asked tentatively, "Uh…is he really Prince Jason?"

"Yes, I am," Jason replied, his voice raspy. "Come on, we've got to get out of here."

"Right," Iolaus agreed as he helped his friend to his feet. As they moved further into the forest, Iolaus said to the boy, "Lortius, I think we've met your brother…he's been worried about you."

"Lucius? He's alright?" Lortius demanded, eager for news about the only family he had left and very concerned about his younger brother who was now alone to fend for himself.

"He's fine, don't worry," Iolaus assured him. "Some of the others are looking out for him."

"If we get out of this," Jason muttered through gritted teeth, "you and your brother are going to be a whole lot better than 'fine'."

The Prince might not be able to help every homeless person in Greece, or even Corinth…but he was determined to help these two young boys.

If they got out of this alive.

* * *

By the time they'd made it to the far side of the wood, Iolaus was glad of the boy's help. Jason had been losing a lot of blood and was finding it harder to stay on his feet, leaning heavily on Iolaus' shoulders.

"Easy, Jase," he encouraged, "it's not much farther now." The Prince nodded wordlessly, biting back a groan as he struggled on, his steps faltering and unsteady. His bad leg was nothing but a dead weight but dragging it behind him was excruciatingly painful. Loss of blood and the shock of the injury were wearing him down, and Jason was finding it increasingly difficult to fight off the exhaustion and the darkness that danced on the edges of his vision.

As they struggled across the rutted field, their way barely illuminated by the fragile light of the stars, Jason stumbled badly and went to his knees with a groan he could no longer hold back. Slipping down beside him, Iolaus supported him into a sitting position as he said quietly, "Maybe we need to take a bit of a break. There's a little more light here…let me see your wound."

Swallowing hard, grimacing against the pain, Jason was grateful for the break and the support Iolaus gave him as he eased back to lie on the ground. The younger cadet's breath caught as he saw the dark stain of blood that had soaked through the Prince's clothing and the shirt he'd bound hastily around Jason's leg. Rummaging in his pack, he pulled out a thick wad of cloth that he pressed down over the ragged cut to stem the flow of the pulsing blood that welled from it.

"He's hurt bad," Lortius whispered softly to Iolaus, the lad's voice shaky with fear and worry about the Prince.

"He'll be alright," Iolaus replied, forcing a note of confidence into his voice. "Won't you, Jason?" he asked with a flippant trace of humour he didn't feel. "You won't up and bleed to death on me, will you? I mean, you wouldn't do that to me…imagine the years of detention Chiron would assign if I went back to the Academy without you…."

Gamely, the Prince snickered in response, then groaned again at the lance of agony that shot through him. Gasping, trying to match his friend's levity in an effort to reassure the boy, Jason replied, "It's just a scratch…proof of the hazards of learning the 'facts of life'."

"Yeah, right," Iolaus replied, though his smile had faded as he touched Jason's face and felt the cold, clamminess of shock setting in. "You'll be fine as soon as we can get this fixed up."

Jason turned his head to look across the fields. "How far…to the farmhouse?" he grunted.

"About half a mile, I'd guess," Iolaus replied. "Don't worry, we'll get you there."

"Not worried…" Jason retorted staunchly. "But…what if they won't help?"

"They'll help," Lortius assured him. "Who wouldn't help the Prince of Corinth?"

"No…" Jason replied, fighting to maintain consciousness. "Don't tell…them. Could be dangerous…"

"What?" the boy asked, startled. "Why?"

"If the soldiers find us," Iolaus explained while he quickly bound the pad of rags with a long strip of linen he wound tightly around Jason's leg, "they'll not dare to let anyone live who knows they assaulted the Prince."

"Oh," Lortius replied, his eyes wide with the full appreciation of the danger they were in.

"Maybe you…should go…" Jason murmured to the child, his eyes growing heavy.

"No…no, you need help," Lortius answered, straightening his thin shoulders. His courage won him a wan smile from the Prince just before he passed out.

"What are we going to do?" Lortius gasped then, turning frightened eyes to Iolaus.

"It's alright," the young cadet assured him. "I'll carry him. When we get close to the house, you can run ahead and bang on their door to ask for help."

"But…what if they refuse?" Lortius asked, worried. In his experience, help from others came rarely and always at a price.

"They won't," Iolaus replied with a conviction he wished he could feel. "They'll help," he asserted with a grunt as he pulled Jason up, positioning the Prince over his shoulder.

* * *

When they finally spotted the farmhouse surrounded by a grove of orange and olive trees, Lortius ran ahead over the dark field to bang on the door, calling clearly but softly, "Help! Please help us!"

The door was pulled over a few moments later by a disheveled middleaged man in a woolen shift. Disgruntled, only half awake, the farmer frowned as he demanded, "What is it, boy? What's the trouble?"

"My friends, sir…" Lortius panted, pointing back into the darkness. "One of them is hurt bad. Won't you help us?"

"Hurt you say?" the thickset man rumbled, his gaze lifting to search the night. Rubbing his neck, he barely stifled a yawn as he nodded. "Just give me a moment, lad, to pull on my boots," he said then as he turned back into the house.

"What is it, Panthius?" came a woman's voice from within.

"A young lad…says his friend is hurt," Panthius replied. "You'd best get the fire going and put some water to heat. We'll not be long getting back."

In moments, Panthius was at the door, fastening his pants even as he jutted his chin toward the dark fields. "Show me to your friends," he directed, pulling the door shut behind him.

Lortius skipped ahead, anxious to get back to Iolaus and Jason, marveling a bit at how easy this had been. If he'd banged on a door in the middle of the night in Corinth, he'd either've been ignored or the guard would have been called to quiet the disturbance.

Panthius strode along behind him, shaking his head at the quirks of Fate. The last thing he'd imagined when he'd gone to bed the night before was some waif banging upon his door, crying for help. The kid plainly looked starved and that was a fact. Must be from the city. Wasn't a fit place for man nor beast, Corinth, not in the farmer's opinion.

As the misshapen, stumbling form took shape out of the darkness in front of them, Panthius was a little taken aback at first, wondering if he was seeing a new creature, but then he quickly realized it was two youths, one carrying another who was quite a bit larger and heavier. Startled to find that the waif's friends weren't also lost children, the phlegmatic man quickly recovered himself and moved forward quickly to assist Iolaus. As if Jason was little more than a child, the sturdy farmer took the injured and unconscious youth into his own arms to lead the way back to his humble cottage.

"Thank you," Iolaus panted, more than a little relieved to release Jason into the larger man's embrace.

"Aye, well, I don't like to see folks hurt," Panthius replied. "Let's see what me and me wife Min can do to help your friend."

"My name is Iolaus, and this is Lortius and you're carrying Jason," Iolaus explained as they strode through the night. "Jason and I are cadets at Chiron's Academy, about ten miles from here…"

"Aye, we've all heard of the Academy and know Chiron to be a principled centaur," Panthius nodded in acknowledgement. He was curious, naturally, but thought the tale of how these young people had come upon his farm in the dark of the night could wait until they were inside and the sorely injured lad in his arms cared for properly.

In a matter of minutes, they'd arrived at the cottage, Min standing by the open door keeping watch while the flickering light of a welcoming fire and hastily lit candles was a welcome beacon. She backed up hastily to let Panthius move unimpeded into the main room, where he carefully set Jason down on a rustic wooden couch made comfortable by pillows Min had made years before. The farmer's expression tightened when he saw the blood staining Jason's clothing and the hastily applied bandage.

"I'll be needing some hot water, bandages and some of your special herbs, my dear," he rumbled over his shoulder as he and Iolaus gently removed Jason's filthy clothing. The farmer grunted to himself, but didn't say anything about the disheveled and unkempt look of these unexpected guests, nor did he comment immediately on what was quite clearly the wound from a sharp blade. Hunting accident? Perhaps, though none of the boys were carrying spears, or any weapons beyond simple hunting knives. When Min brought a tray with the supplies he needed along with a clay basin of steaming water, he nodded gratefully and did what he could to clean, treat and rebandage the wound. As he worked, he said to his wife, "Min, these lads look hungry. They could likely do with a bit of cheese and some of that bread you baked yesterday…and a mug of tea with lots of honey wouldn't go amiss."

She cut him an indulgent sidelong look, smiling a little as she shook her head…as if she couldn't see for herself that these young ones looked half-starved…and in need of a good wash, come to that. Moving back to the sideboard along the far wall, she pulled down small platters, a round of cheese and the better part of a fresh loaf wrapped in gauze and placed the food with a knife on the sturdy oak table in the centre of the good-sized room. Turning back to the fire, she filled a tea pot from the large kettle and set it along with mugs and the honeypot on the table as well. Looking up, she saw that Lortius was watching her with wide eyes…well, actually, he was looking at the food.

"Come, sit down boy, and have something to eat," she encouraged, pulling out a chair for him. "And you, too," she added with a glance toward Iolaus.

The cadet looked up from his close watch of the farmer's ministrations, a slight smile of gratitude on his face for such a simple and complete welcome of strangers who might be bringing little but trouble in return for the kindness being shown them. He caught her looking at his hands, and looking down, he could see why…they were covered with Jason's blood.

"Uh…maybe I could wash up first," Iolaus suggested.

"I'd say that's an excellent idea," she acknowledged, turning to fetch him a towel. "There's a barrel just outside the door."

Iolaus rose and took the worn but clean towel and caught Lortius by the arm, drawing him too outside to wash his hands and face before sitting down at her table.

Thoughtfully, she turned back to the hearth and set the ever-present kettle of soup over the flames to heat. The younger boy in particular looked badly in need of wholesome nourishment and she could see the simple meal of bread and cheese wouldn't be enough to fill him. Or to warm him from the shock she could read in his wide brown eyes and too pale face.

Once Panthius had Jason settled, he joined them at the table, taking his own mug of tea from his wife's hands. Turning to Iolaus, the farmer stated, "You've a story to tell, and I've the time to hear it now."

Iolaus nodded as he swallowed a bite of cheese. He'd decided to tell the truth as far as possible…he owed that to the man and his wife. "Well, like I said, we're cadets from the Academy. Jason and I discovered a plot to sell children and young women into slavery," he began. "We were disguised as tramps, so we could follow the soldiers responsible without being noticed. We were able to set the hostages free, but got caught in a fight with the soldiers guarding the captives. Jason was hurt, but we managed to escape with Lortius' help…he was one of the captives. I knew this farm was nearby and headed here, hoping you'd help." Pausing a moment to smile unabashedly at both Panthius and Min, he continued, "And, you've more than fulfilled my hopes…I'm really very grateful."

"Soldiers, you say," Panthius repeated thoughtfully. "They'll be hunting you, then."

Sighing, Iolaus nodded a little wearily. "Yes, I'm afraid so…I'm sorry. We don't want to put you in any danger…"

"Well, you could hardly wander around in the dark with your friend so badly hurt," Min observed dryly.

"Nor can you travel far in the state he's in now," Panthius added. "You were right to come here, lad, though I'll warrant you've complicated our lives a bit." Pausing a moment, he murmured again to himself, "Soldiers…" Looking up, he completed his thought. "We can hardly send to Corinth for help, since we don't know who might be hunting you." He said matter-of-factly. "So, I think you should head straight to the Academy…if you can ride, I've a horse to loan you. Chiron and perhaps a few others could come back with you, be here by dawn, to greet any other visitors who might be following your trail."

"Great!" Iolaus exclaimed in relief. He hadn't hoped for a horse, but with one, he could make it back to the Academy in an hour, maybe less. "I'll head out right away."

"Good lad," Panthius approved as he stood to lead the way out of the cottage to the barn. Iolaus paused a moment by Jason, kneeling to touch his friend's face, but Jason was deeply unconscious.

"Don't you worry about him," Min said softly. "Panthius and I will watch over him until you return. The boy, Lortius is it? Well, he can lie down on a blanket in front of the hearth. He looks half asleep as it is."

Iolaus looked up at her wordlessly, but she could read the heartfelt gratitude in his eyes as he nodded soberly then followed Panthius into the darkness.

* * *

"What do you mean you lost the cargo?" the merchant snarled. He was furious. That cargo had been worth a lot of money…and he had buyers that wouldn't be pleased by the delay of having to acquire new merchandise.

"Just what I said," the soldier snapped back, weary and disgusted. The slave trade was lucrative and he'd been hoping to retire with the proceeds of this last sale. "Two young toughs followed us from town and set them free. They overpowered the guards, killing one of them, before we heard the sound of fighting and could get back to stop them." He paused, wondering if he should confide that one of his men thought Prince Jason had been one of the two interfering youths but decided against sharing that bit of information. There was no proof, after all, and it was unlikely to think the Prince had been wandering around the streets of Corinth like a tramp. Still…there'd been something uncomfortably familiar about the tall youth.

"And you just let them get away," the taller man sneered coldly, shaking his head as he fingered the blade hanging from his belt. It was abysmally difficult to get good help these days. "Witnesses who can identify you…and you let them get away."

"They won't have gone far," his confederate replied, wiping sweat from his forehead and running his fingers through his graying hair. The merchant made him nervous, like a deadly snake ready to strike. Suddenly, he was very glad not to have confided the possible identity of one of the young tramps. That information might well have cost him his life.

"Well, you'd better kill them," directed the merchant. "You'll be no good to me if they live to identify you."

"I'm not a fool," growled the soldier. "We're heading back now to track them. One of them was wounded, badly from the amount of blood soaking into the ground. They won't have gone far. We'll find them at first light."

"See that you do…or don't bother coming back," the merchant replied thinly, his voice cold, his eyes like stones glittering flatly in the candle light.

* * *

"Chiron!" Iolaus cried out as he leapt from the horse he'd galloped through the Academy gates and pounded on the door of the Headmaster's personal quarters next to the stables. "Chiron, wake up!"

In moments, he heard the clop of the centaur's hooves and the door was wrenched open. Iolaus scarcely noticed the Headmaster's disheveled appearance, his hair unbound and wild as a mane around his head, his chest bare of his belts of office. "Iolaus? What's happened?" Chiron demanded, not missing the splotches of blood on the youth's ragged pants as he reached out to grip the cadet's bare shoulder.

"Long story," Iolaus gasped out as he ran harried fingers through his own unkempt and filthy curls. "The short version is that Jason has been wounded by renegade soldiers. He's being cared for by a farmer about ten miles from here. We need to get back there with enough support to get him safely to the palace. I'll explain on the way, okay?"

Nodding tightly, understanding the need for urgent action, Chiron waved the young cadet toward the barracks as he said, "Round up the others… tell them to bear arms, then come back and get the horses ready. I'll meet you in the stable."

Iolaus turned and pelted across the dark compound toward the barracks. Inside, he moved rapidly down the line of bunks, roughly shaking his colleagues into wakefulness as he shouted repeatedly, "WAKE UP! WE NEED TO MOVE OUT…WEAPONS READY!" Confused and muddled cadets, startled out of deep sleep, staggered to their feet to pull on clothes before they were even quite awake. Racing back along the aisle, Iolaus called to them, "Meet me in the stables! Chiron's waiting!" He'd added the last so they'd know this was no prank but of the utmost seriousness. Then, he bolted back out into the darkness.

By the time he reached the stables, Chiron was already saddling horses and Iolaus wasted no time getting busy with the same task. As he worked, he brought his commander up to date on what had happened and why he hadn't gone directly to the King for assistance.

"You acted wisely, Iolaus," Chiron replied austerely, but sighed. "Though, it might have been preferable to get back up before you took on the slavers."

"Yeah, but we didn't have any proof…and we wouldn't have found their captives or been able to release them," Iolaus grunted as he tightened a girth and moved to slip a bridle over the head of yet another mount. By then, cadets were thumping across the courtyard, gathering at the door of the stables.

"What's going on?" Hercules demanded, noting with a sinking feeling that Jason wasn't there.

"Jason has been wounded in a minor skirmish and may yet be in danger. We are riding to his aid," Chiron told them all. "Mount up…Iolaus, take the lead."

In less than half an hour after his arrival, Iolaus was again riding flat out across the fields between them and the farm on the edge of the wood. The horses jumped low stone walls and wooden stiles as they raced through the night. Less than two hours after he'd left Jason, he was riding back into the farmyard with a score of cadets at his back…and the sky was lightening with the first early gray of dawn.

Panthius had heard them ride in and after first checking through the window to determine if the arrivals were friends or foes, he threw open the door of the cottage and came out to meet them. "I've already hitched up the wagon," he called.

"Hercules, go with Iolaus to carry Jason out to the wagon," Chiron directed before turning to the farmer. "Panthius, I'm much obliged to you for aiding my cadets."

Lowering his voice as he neared the centaur, Panthius looked up as he said, "The lad's in a bad way…he's lost a lot of blood and is in shock. It's an ugly wound that will take its own good time to heal."

"He'll be well cared for at the palace," Chiron replied.

"The palace?" the farmer returned, a look of surprise on his face.

Smiling tightly as he laid a friendly hand on the middle-aged man's muscular shoulder, Chiron informed him, "Yes, the palace. Were you unaware that you have given shelter and succor to the Prince of Corinth?"

"By the gods," Panthius breathed out, startled by the information. "They look little more than tramps…frankly, it was a stretch to believe they were cadets until Iolaus explained their mission."

"Mission?" Chiron repeated, raising one brow.

"Why yes, to bring that filthy scum to justice for abusing their responsibilities and selling poor souls into slavery," Panthius clarified.

"Ah, yes, that mission," Chiron replied, nodding with a slight smile which faded as he looked passed the farmer's shoulder to see Hercules carrying Jason from the house. "Excuse me," he murmured as he moved forward to check himself on the condition of his wounded cadet.

Wrapped in a blanket, Jason was unconscious, his pale face unnaturally flushed with the beginnings of a fever. Chiron checked the bandages briefly then nodded to Hercules to carry Jason to the wagon sitting just outside the barn on the far side of the large farmyard. The centaur's attention was then caught by the sight of the timid waif hovering in Iolaus' shadow. "And, who's this?" he asked.

"Lortius," Iolaus said, "this is Chiron." Turning back to the centaur, Iolaus explained, "Lortius could have run off with the others, to ensure his own safety, but he insisted on helping me with Jason."

"Ah," nodded the centaur as he solemnly held out his hand. When Lortius took his hand uncertainly, Chiron gave it a brisk shake as he said, "I am in your debt, Lortius. Thank you for your help…and your courage."

Overwhelmed by the attention, his eyes wide with wonder, Lortius could do more than nod wordlessly and lean into Iolaus when the cadet placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. "I owe you a big debt of gratitude, too," the cadet murmured.

Shrugging, Lortius managed to whisper, "You'd helped us…saved us all…"

"It's time we left," Chiron cut in briskly, turning back to the others. Over his shoulder he said, "Iolaus, help Lortius into the wagon…he can ride with Jason."

Iolaus guided the nervous boy around the stamping horses milling in the farmyard to the far side of the wagon where Hercules had gently placed Jason, covering him with another blanket before climbing out of the box up onto the seat to take the reins. Iolaus had just lifted Lortius into the wagon when the blond cadet grunted and slumped hard against wooden side of the vehicle before crumpling, banging his head against the wheel as he collapsed to the ground, an arrow in his back.

"IOLAUS!" Lortius screamed, drawing everyone's attention. In a heartbeat, the cadets had formed a protective circle as they scanned the nearby fields and copse of trees for the assailant. But, the light was still uncertain and whoever had unleashed the arrow had faded into the remaining shadows of the night.

Hercules leapt from the wagon with a sharp exclamation of alarm to kneel beside his fallen friend. He was trying to determine how badly Iolaus had been wounded as Chiron pushed himself through the crowd of cadets. Min, who'd been standing by the door of her cottage started forward, only to be ordered back to safety by Panthius.

"How badly is he hurt?" Chiron demanded sharply, furious at the assault and deeply worried about the blond cadet.

Looking up, his face pale with shock and concern, Hercules shook his head. "I don't know. He's unconscious. The arrow looks high, so he might be alright…"

Min, having retreated into the house emerged then with bandages, thrusting them into her husband's hands. "Here…they'll need to bind the wound," she said briskly, though she was badly frightened by the violence.

Panthius nodded and took the clean strips of linen from her, bearing them to Chiron and Hercules.

As he studied the fallen cadet, his brow furrowed in thought, Chiron decided it was too risky to remove the arrowhead until they'd reached the palace…and the royal healer. Taking the bandages from Panthius with a grateful murmur, he directed Hercules, "Break off the shaft for now and bind the wound with these. As soon as Iolaus is placed in the wagon with Jason, we'll head to the palace." Turning to the other cadets, he ordered, "Marcus, Leonides and Simoneus…I want you to stay here and ensure there is no more trouble. Panthius and his wife have done us a great service in offering aid to Jason and Iolaus. I'd not see them harmed for it. Lucinius, Xertes, Nerius and Cleon…see if you can track who shot that arrow. Report to me at the palace."

In minutes, Hercules had placed Iolaus in the wagon beside Jason, Lortius kneeling to watch over both of them and had climbed back onto the seat of the wagon, slapping the reins to set the horses a brisk pace toward Corinth, surrounded by his escort of the twelve remaining cadets led by Chiron.

* * *

Two hours later, Chiron was standing as still and solemn as a statue outside the palace infirmary while Hercules paced the hallway, too anxious about his friends to remain still. The trackers had reported in an hour before, discouraged and sorry to report they'd lost the trail on the busy well traveled road into Corinth. Chiron had accepted their report with a bare nod, and then had directed them to wait with the other cadets out in the courtyard.

The King was inside with the healer, understandably anxious about his son's welfare. Jason's father had been badly shocked when they'd arrived shortly after dawn with his severely wounded son. Chiron had explained briefly and succinctly what had happened, and why Jason was in such a filthy state. Wordlessly, striving for calm, the King had stared at him for a long moment, then nodded tightly, accepting that his son had sought this strange assignment and had been wounded in the course of securing the safety of their captive subjects. He didn't like it, not any of it…but he could understand it. Turning, he'd followed the men carefully carrying the two wounded cadets and the healer into the treatment room.

"What's taking so long," muttered Hercules, not expecting any answer, hardly aware he'd spoken aloud.

"Calm yourself, Hercules," Chiron instructed, his words stern even as his voice resonated with a kindness and warmth that was rare. "They are in good hands."

"Yeah, I know," the demigod sighed as he pushed nervous fingers through his lank hair. Neither Jason nor Iolaus had recovered consciousness during the journey. Fighting back the panic that fluttered in his chest as he drove the horses, Hercules had told himself, over and over, that the wounds weren't necessarily life threatening, that his best friends would be fine. But, the young demigod was unused to seeing his friends so sorely injured and was badly in need of the reassurance that only the healer could afford.

It was another hour before the healer finally emerged, drying hands recently crimson with blood on a pristine square of fine white cotton. The man looked tired, but he smiled to allay their fears. "Prince Jason is weak from loss of blood," he reported. "But the wound was clean and he'd been well cared for before being brought here. The farmer, Panthius, will be richly rewarded for his service to the Prince. The wound was deep, however, and will take a few weeks to heal before he can return to the Academy."

"I'm relieved to hear the Prince will recover. And, Iolaus?" Chiron asked while Hercules hovered at his shoulder, his eyes wide with worry.

"The arrowhead lodged in the left shoulder blade…and that probably saved his life. But, it took time to dig it out so he also lost a considerable amount of blood, I'm afraid," the healer reported. "But, he's young and healthy…give him a couple of weeks and he should heal well. I'd like to keep him here, though, if you have no objections. He'll need special exercises, they both will, to regain the strength in their damaged muscles and ensure they suffer no permanent disability."

"I'm grateful for your care of Iolaus," Chiron said as he nodded gravely, "and your willingness to oversee his recovery. May we see them?"

"Yes, for a moment, but they are both asleep and I don't want them disturbed," the healer replied as he stepped aside to wave them into the infirmary ahead of him.

King Aeson was standing beside his son's cot, holding Jason's hand as he gazed down at his unconscious son. Hearing the others come in, he looked up and nodded, waving them closer. "He's going to be all right," the King murmured, tired, his face haggard from worry.

"I'm sorry this happened," Chiron replied as he moved closer, his hooves clipping quietly on the wooden floor boards.

"No," King Aeson replied with a steady calm. "Jason was doing what was right, protecting our citizens. Now, all I need do is find those responsible…." Though he kept his voice steady, his eyes were hard with anger that his own soldiers could have done this, could have been engaged in selling the vulnerable souls of Corinth into slavery, and then attacked his son.

"We'll do all we can to assist," Chiron asserted. "But, I fear those responsible will have long vanished before either Jason or Iolaus can identify them for us."

Nodding, the King gently stroked his son's hair back from his pale face. He sighed then straightened as he turned from the cot. "I have duties to see to…you and your cadets are welcome to remain here at the palace as long as you wish. While I grieve to admit it, I have no idea which of my soldiers might have been involved in this crime and the boys are at risk until we know. I'd appreciate it if Hercules at least could stay until Jason and Iolaus are well enough to once again protect themselves. I'll be moving them to Jason's room later today."

"I'll be glad to stay, sir, if Chiron gives me leave," Hercules interjected, casting a hopeful look at his headmaster.

"Of course you may stay, as long as needed," Chiron confirmed. Grateful, King Aeson gave the young demigod a slight smile then reached out to clasp Chiron's arm in a warrior's grip.

"Thank you, old friend," he murmured, then left the infirmary.

Hercules gazed down at Jason for a long moment, then turned to move to Iolaus' cot farther along the wall. Iolaus, too, was still unconscious, bandages wrapped around his chest to hold the dressing to his back. Hercules took his friend's limp hand in his own, and thought Iolaus' skin felt cold to his touch, so he reached for the blanket folded on the end of the cot, pulling it up to tuck in under Iolaus' chin. Unconsciously, he brushed the errant curls from his friend's face.

"He'll be fine, Hercules," Chiron reminded him quietly, laying a steadying hand on his shoulder. "They will both be fine."

"I know," the youth murmured, his voice cracking a little. "I was just so scared that we might lose them…."

"The lives of Princes and warriors hold many hazards, Hercules," Chiron warned. This wasn't the first time the demigod had seen his two best friends hurt, nor would it be the last.

"Yeah, I know," Hercules replied with a sigh. "I just wish I could protect them from ever being hurt again."

Smiling softly, the centaur patted the young man on the back. Hercules would have to learn that for all his strength, he couldn't protect everyone he cared about from all harm. "You are not a god, nor can you be everywhere at once. They'll be fine…let it go."

Nodding, Hercules relaxed marginally, letting some of the guilt he'd been bearing since Iolaus had first told them that Jason had been hurt, and which had erupted with new force when he'd seen Iolaus shot down right beside him, slip away. Straightening, he silently vowed to himself that no harm would come to either of them now, in the palace, not so long as he was there to watch over them.

* * *

The body of the soldier, Marius, was found later that day, and Hercules identified the knife in his body as Iolaus'. So, this had been the one who had attacked his son, King Aeson thought as he stared down on the lifeless face. 'Good for Iolaus,' he murmured, unconsciously voicing his thought as he turned away. That evening, the captain of his guard reported that four other soldiers appeared to have deserted for certainly they were nowhere to be found in the palace precincts, the barracks or the city.

"The perpetrators appear to have moved on," the King observed to Chiron and gave the centaur leave to return to the Academy with the rest of his cadets. However, in kindness, understanding that Hercules wished with his whole heart to be left behind with his friends, the King and the Centaur agreed that he could stay to help Jason and Iolaus with their exercises as they recovered, and would return with them in a couple of weeks.

Hercules, when he was informed of the decision, couldn't help the smile that beamed from his face. Nodding his gratitude, he turned and loped back to Jason's quarters, anxious to return to his friends. Following more sedately, Chiron also headed back through the palace, to take his leave of his two cadets, who had awakened earlier that day.

As he entered Jason's suite, the centaur was glad to see both of the wounded youths propped up in their beds, looking a trifle wan but otherwise well on the road to recovery. Moving first to the Prince's bedside, Chiron observed, "You're looking much better, Jason."

"I'll be fine…" he began bravely, then winced at the pain that shot through his leg when he shifted, trying to sit a little straighter.

"Hmm, yes, in time," Chiron observed austerely. "But, tell me, what are the lessons you learned during this assignment."

Stifling a groan at having to report with little time to prepare, the Prince took a deep breath as he gathered his thoughts. "Well," he replied, "I learned that Iolaus was right. People have a lot more pressing concerns than worrying about what their King might demand from them on a day to day basis. Making enough to feed their families, just trying to survive, can take all their time and energy. It's not disloyal…it's just the way it is. And," he paused with a grimace, "I learned that even the King's soldiers can't always be trusted to uphold his laws…might even be engaged in breaking those laws if they aren't well supervised."

"Then the assignment was not a waste of time," Chiron observed with the trace of a smile. Crossing his arms, he observed, "But, you have learned more than that, I suspect. You've learned that you place the safety of your subjects before your own…you have demonstrated your nobility and your readiness to someday be King."

"Not soon, I hope," Jason interjected, waving off the idea of wearing the crown.

Nodding in agreement, the centaur turned and moved to Iolaus' bedside, acknowledging Hercules' presence on the chair nearby. "And you, Iolaus…as I recall, I had tasked you with the responsibility for the Prince's welfare."

"Well, yeah, but Jason wouldn't go to the palace when I asked him to…" Iolaus began, a sinking feeling in his chest. Ever since Jason had been hurt, he'd been conscious of his failure to watch over him and keep him safe.

But, Chiron cut in, "Jason was right to remain with you. Whether his injury could have been prevented or not is no longer at issue. The two of you acted bravely and saved a number of lives. You did well in overpowering those who assailed you and in getting him to safety, where he could be properly cared for. And, you got help as soon as you were able to do so. Well done."

"Oh," Iolaus replied, surprised and pleased by the centaur's words. "Oh, well, yeah, I…well, I did what I could."

"Hmm, yes, well at this point, I want you to pay attention to what the healer requires of you and to follow his instructions," Chiron said with a stern gaze, only too well aware of this cadet's inability to remain inactive. "When the two of you return to the Academy, I expect to see that you have fully recovered."

"No problem, Chiron," Iolaus replied with a cheeky grin, "I'll be good…I promise."

Turning to Hercules, the centaur said, "I'll be holding you responsible for ensuring that Iolaus does what he's told…he's not to get up until he's given leave to do so, and he's not to overdo his exercises."

Iolaus rolled his eyes, but Hercules simply nodded gravely, accepting the commission. "You can count on me," he replied, then grinned at his friend.

Jason had been watching and listening to the exchange, but he wasn't smiling at the banter. He was thinking that there had been some 'facts of life' that he'd learned that he hadn't shared with the headmaster. He'd learned that people condemned to life on the street, particularly those most vulnerable, were at constant risk of being preyed upon by others more vicious, who were stronger and more brutal. Once again, he found himself wondering what Iolaus had had to endure and he shook his head. He'd do what he could to make life easier for all those who lived under the protection of his crown when he became King…and he vowed to himself that he'd do all in his power to keep that cheeky grin on Iolaus' face. Never again would his friend ever have to feel he was alone in the world, not so long as Jason lived and breathed.

* * *

When Jason and Iolaus had regained consciousness, they'd both asked after Lortius, wanting to ensure that he and his younger brother were safe. They were dismayed to learn that the child had scampered out of the wagon as soon as it had entered the city, though they understood the kid's urgent desire to find his brother and make sure he was all right. Though soldiers were sent out to look for the children, to bring them to the palace, they had gone into hiding and were nowhere to be found. Disappointed to receive that news, both cadets determined to find the kids as soon as they were able to do so. Lortius had helped save the Prince's life at the risk of his own, and had earned the reward of a new chance in life, the chance to be raised and educated under the protection of the King.

In a matter of days, both youths were able to be up and out of bed so long as they didn't overtire themselves. At the end of the week, when they were invited to attend a small dinner the King was having with local merchants, to discuss how business was faring in the city, all three accepted with alacrity. The food was bound to be good and all knew the King was interested in seeing if taxes needed to be alleviated to help vendors and craftsmen to provide better for their families.

So, it was with interest and a certain optimism that Jason, with the aid of a crutch, Iolaus with his arm in a sling and Hercules, hovering around both of them solicitously, all entered the dining hall that evening. The large room was brilliantly lit with hundreds of candles and tables were laid out with crisp white linen laden with gleaming silver knives and platters. As they took their places at the King's table, they noted with interest that this 'small gathering' included what looked like more than a hundred businessmen from the city. Servants came and went with platters heaped with meats and other delicacies while a harpist played a series of light melodies to accompany the meal.

The discussion was lively and frank, helped no doubt by the liberal servings of wine. The King listened intently, glancing from time to time at his youngest guests who were clearly enjoying themselves and, from the evidence of their hearty appetites, were recovering well from their latest adventures. Aeson had not been happy about his son's assignment, considering it somewhat foolhardy and too dangerous, but he understood Jason's need to learn for himself, to discover his own truths. And he was proud of his son, perhaps more than he'd ever been able to fully express.

Sated by the fine foods and warmed by the wine, Iolaus was feeling at peace with the world. This was a far cry from those cold, lonely nights on the streets of Thebes. Perhaps it was that thought, those dark memories, that chilled him a little as the meal drew to a close, but suddenly he felt something wasn't quite right. He felt hunted, as ridiculous a notion as that seemed, the hairs on his neck suddenly bristling in warning. Startled, he looked up and around the room…into the cold eyes of one of the merchants at the far end who was staring at him. At their gaze connected, the merchant smiled and lifted his goblet in a mock salute.

Iolaus froze then jerked his eyes away, feeling bile rise in the back of his throat. Consciously, he willed himself to breathe, taking a deep breath, and then another while his thoughts raced. He couldn't believe that monster was here…but what could he do? The guy was obviously a respected merchant, a guest of the king. Who'd believe him even if he did say anything…but dragging up all that old history was the last thing he wanted to do. It was behind him, done, buried. Suddenly, all he wanted was to get away from those eyes and that mocking smile. Shifting his chair back with a jerk that startled Hercules and Jason who were sitting on either side of him, he mumbled, "Ah…I'm a little tired. If you'll excuse me…"

Hercules stood immediately, to go with him, but Iolaus waved him back. "No, Herc, I'm fine. You guys stay and enjoy the rest of the evening…" he stammered.

"You're sure…I don't mind going with you," the demigod asserted, worried at his friend's sudden pallor.

"No…no, really, I'd feel bad if I wrecked your evening. I'm fine, honest. I just…I just need to lie down," Iolaus replied hastily as he backed away, remembering to bow his head to the King, as he moved past, heading for the corridor beyond.

Reluctantly, Hercules sat back down and exchanged a look with Jason who frowned and shrugged. Iolaus had been fine, joking and teasing. It was possible he'd just suddenly felt tired. But, when the Prince looked out across the gathered throng, his eye caught a glimpse of one of the merchants leaving the back of the hall…and he wondered.

His own unease growing, after a couple of minutes, Jason also pushed his own chair back. "I'm a little tired, too," he said, signaling to Hercules that they should go. Briefly, he turned to his father, saying, "It was a fine meal and good company, but I guess our stamina isn't yet what it should be. If you'd excuse us…"

Aeson smiled fondly up at his son as he nodded leave to depart the hall. He was reassured that the boys knew when to call a halt to their fun, knew enough to retire when they felt the need of rest.

* * *

Iolaus had hurried out into the corridor and was heading toward Jason's chambers when he darted around a corner and almost crashed into another person. Backing up, apologizing before he looked up, he was shocked to find his arm grabbed tightly and to be pushed against the wall, causing a spike of pain to flare in the wound in his back.

"We meet again, Bright Eyes," the oily voice crooned. "It's good to see you…though I'm surprised to run into you in a palace."

Off balance, handicapped by having one arm in a sling, Iolaus tried to push the taller, stronger man away, but Archimedes pressed against him, holding him to the wall as he looked down on the youth, his eyes hard and cruel. "Get off me," Iolaus hissed. "I'll call the guard," he threatened when Archimedes didn't back off.

"Oh, I don't think you'll do that," the merchant replied, leering down at the cadet. "I doubt you want to make a lot of complicated explanations about how we've met before."

Iolaus stilled at that, hearing the threat in the voice. "What do you want?" he demanded, feeling cold.

"I'd like to renew our acquaintance," Archimedes said as he reached up to touch Iolaus' cheek.

Pulling his head away from the slimy touch, the cadet snarled and again pushed hard against the man, desperate to get away. "Not a chance."

"Do your 'friends' know what you really are?" the merchant asked, threat heavy in his voice. "I doubt it…the likes of you have no place at a King's table."

"Leave them out of this," Iolaus snapped furiously, but he felt anxiety build in his chest. He never wanted anyone to know…

They both heard the sounds of footsteps and the thunk of Jason's cane as he and Hercules entered the far end of the corridor. Iolaus heaved a sigh of relief as Archimedes hastily pulled away. The merchant muttered, "We'll talk again," as he made off in the other direction.

"Not if I see you first," Iolaus mumbled, appalled to realize he was trembling.

"Iolaus!" Jason called as he spotted the merchant hastening away down the hall. "Are you all right?"

Straightening from the wall, Iolaus nodded a little shakily. "Yeah, I'm fine," he called back, though he didn't meet Jason's concerned gaze.

Coming up beside him, thinking about the brief look he'd had at the disappearing merchant, Jason was suddenly reminded of Iolaus' strange behaviours the week before after the encounter with the unpleasant man in the streets of Corinth. "Was that the same guy…?" he asked.

"Leave it, Jason. I'm fine," Iolaus replied tightly as he turned to continue on toward the spacious suite they were all sharing.

Hercules looked from one to the other, picking up the tension in the corridor. "What's going on?" he asked, concerned at Iolaus' pallor and Jason's look of outrage.

"Nothing," Iolaus replied quickly. "Nothing's going on…I'm just tired, that's all." Without another word, he hastened along the corridor ahead of them. Hercules turned to Jason who just shook his head, then followed after his younger friend. If Iolaus wanted Hercules to know, he'd tell him…it wasn't Jason's place to share confidences he only guessed at, and only guessed because of cryptic things Iolaus had said while they'd haunted the streets.

Hercules frowned, knowing well that there was something he wasn't being told, but then he simply sighed and hurried after his friends. He'd find out what was wrong, it just might take a little time.

* * *

That night, as Iolaus huddled under the bedclothes striving in vain to fight off dark memories that crashed over him, the youth wondered if he'd ever really be able to leave his past behind, ever be able to forget the horrors he had experienced. Gods, he hated Archimedes, hated what had been done to him. Shivering, wondering if he'd ever feel warm again, he couldn't stop thinking about how Archimedes had grabbed him, throwing him against the wall, making him feel helpless…like that night years ago, in the dark alley, when the merchant had beaten and brutalized him.

Swallowing, Iolaus tossed in his bed, wincing against the sharp twinge in his back. Heaving a sigh, he ran his fingers through his hair. He'd hoped to never see Archimedes again. The man's business was in Thebes wasn't it? Or had he been a traveling merchant then, too? What was his business anyway, besides preying on those weaker than himself? The thought caught hold, and Iolaus found himself putting the pieces together. A beast who preyed upon homeless children…a traveling merchant, quite obviously rich…in a city where children were being stolen into slavery.

"Dammit," he breathed. Could it be? Was Archimedes the slaver who bought the people the soldiers had rounded up and held hostage?

And, if he was, what could Iolaus do about it? He was a wealthy, respected merchant or he wouldn't have been invited to the dinner with the King. The cadet knew he didn't have the answers…but he also knew he was going to have to try to find them.

* * *

It was another three days before Iolaus got the opportunity to slip away. Hercules was helping Jason with his leg exercises, and they would take awhile. Feigning nonchalance, Iolaus told them he was just going out to the gardens, to enjoy the late afternoon sun and they thought nothing of it when he left the Prince's suite.

But, when dusk fell and he wasn't back, Jason became suspicious and asked one of the servants to check on him. When the servant returned alone, saying he'd not been able to find Iolaus anywhere in the palace, not in the library or the kitchens or the garden or any of the public rooms, the Prince stiffened in alarm.

"Dammit," he muttered, reaching for his cane as he stood. "He's gone after him."

"Who? What's going on?" Hercules demanded, moving to Jason's side.

"That merchant…and I don't know what's going on, but I think we'd better find out," Jason stated, a tone of urgency underlying his words. "Come on…I think I know where to look."

The two cadets hastened out of the palace, Jason calling to two guards to accompany them, as he led the way from the courtyard into the streets of Corinth.

* * *

Iolaus had headed directly to the seedier side of town and it hadn't taken him long to learn that a couple of the homeless kids had gone missing in the last day. Cursing under his breath, he kept moving, searching for Lortius and his brother, Lucius. He might not be able to help everyone who was vulnerable on these streets, but it was beyond time that those two kids were found and their safety assured.

Time flew by while he searched, stopping to ask those he recognized from the sojourn on the streets almost two weeks ago if any had seen the boys. He was relieved to know that several had, that they were still around, somewhere, and so he kept searching, though he was aware that it was growing late in the day. He shivered a little in the cool shadows of the alleys, and wished he felt stronger. Gods, he hated the debilitating effects of what hadn't been all that serious a wound…just an arrow in the back, no big deal. But, despite his weakness and the occasional spates of dizziness as he hurried through the streets, he was determined to not give up until he had found the kids. Alert to the possibility of danger, he also kept his eyes peeled for Archimedes and warily watched any soldiers that passed by on patrol.

By the time full dark had fallen, Iolaus was thoroughly frustrated. Where could those two kids be? Sighing, shaking his head as he leaned against the stone wall of a woodworker's shop, closed now for the night, his eyes raked the shadows cast by the torches positioned high along the walls. He didn't want to give up, but he knew he wasn't strong enough to search all night. Iolaus was brave but no fool and he knew he was vulnerable in his weakened state to the thugs that roamed when the sun set.

Discouraged, he was just about to give up, when he heard a muffled cry from the alley further along the street and he was hastening in that direction when Lucius darted out of the darkness and collided with him.

"Help!" the child cried. "Please help!"

"Easy, what's wrong?" Iolaus soothed, as he held the terrified and trembling child close. "Tell me what's wrong."

"There's a big man down there…he's beating Lortius…." Lucius sobbed.

Pushing the child behind him, Iolaus ordered, "Stay here," as he turned toward the alley. Cautiously, he pulled his knife from his boot as he moved into the shadows, the fingers of his other hand lightly tracing the wall to steady himself against the dizziness that again threatened.

He heard the sickening sound of a fist against flesh, and heard a child's moan. "STOP IT!" he screamed, lunging forward with no concern for himself.

Startled, the tall man turned, one hand firmly grasping the rags of the child he was brutalizing. "This is none of your affair," he snarled.

Lortius kicked and squirmed, trying to get away, but the man just shook him roughly, his attention still on the interloper coming toward them from the mouth of the alley.

"Let the boy go," Iolaus ordered, moving his arm until the light from the street flashed on his knife, a silent warning of violence if his words were not heeded.

The boy's assailant laughed and the sound was unexpected, startling Iolaus, and then making his blood run cold as he recognized who stood before him. "Archimedes," he breathed harshly. "Let him go."

Flinging the boy hard against the wall, stunning him so that he crumpled to the dirt, the merchant turned to fully face Iolaus, one fist clenching while the other reached for the knife in his belt. "So, Bright Eyes, you've decided to look me up after all," he gloated, taunting, his voice cold and cruel. The merchant planned to kill this cadet who had cost him such a rich cargo…and planned to enjoy it.

Iolaus' throat was dry as he held his ground. Archimedes was bigger, stronger and he was only too conscious of the weakness that still plagued him. But he'd not let this monster hurt another child. Wordlessly, he took a step forward, edging to the side with the hope that he could get between the merchant and the child who was cringing on the ground a few steps away.

Without warning, Archimedes lunged at the cadet, his slashing knife glinting in the light of the distant torches. Iolaus sidestepped the attack and dropped to kick out and trip his attacker. Their legs entangled and both pitched to the ground, wrestling and grappling, blocking each other's blades. Grunting, they fought grimly, without words, Archimedes confident of his superiority, Iolaus desperate to win. But, strength began to tell…Iolaus had lost too much blood only a week before, and his wound was tearing in his back, waves of agony pulsing through his body even as he kicked and heaved, one fist locked around Archimedes wrist, holding the deadly blade away from his throat and body. Laughing harshly, certain of his victory, Archimedes rolled, one hand pinning Iolaus' wrist to the ground beside them, the blade impotent, as the merchant pulled his arm free of Iolaus' grip. His knees entrapping Iolaus tightly, so that the cadet could not escape him, he raised his own weapon high, about to plunge it into the cadet's body.

Iolaus' eyes widened even as he continued to try to throw Archimedes off him, reaching to block the blade, knowing it was hopeless. This was it…he couldn't escape, couldn't get his own arm free of that iron grip, the big man's weight full upon him, pinning him down.

But, Lortius rose up behind Archimedes, a stone in his hands and he brought it down as hard as he could on the merchant's head, stunning him so that Archimedes fell forward…and onto Iolaus' blade.

For a moment, everything was still and silent in the dark alley but for the child's heaving sobs. "Iolaus…" he whimpered. "Iolaus…?"

"I'm okay," came the muffled response, as Iolaus struggled to push the heavy body of the merchant off his own. He'd just gotten clear, and was scrambling to his knees to wrap a steadying arm around the shuddering child when shouts and the sound of thudding feet came at them from the end of the alley. The light of torches drove back the darkness as Iolaus looked up and blinked in the unexpected brightness.

"Iolaus!" Hercules called out as he raced down the lane toward his friend, Jason hobbling quickly behind him. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, thanks to Lortius, I'm fine," Iolaus called back as he hugged the child and ruffled the kid's hair. Standing, they moved to meet the demigod and the Prince, Lucius close behind them with the soldiers. "But, I think Archimedes is dead," Iolaus added with a dark glance back at the body. "Good riddance," he murmured to himself.

"Lortius!" Lucius cried as he ran forward to hug his brother.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," the older boy reassured his sibling, catching Lucius in a tight hug. "Iolaus saved me."

"What happened here?" Hercules demanded, reaching out to steady Iolaus as he swayed a little, appalled by the blood soaking his friend's clothing. "Are you hurt?"

"Nah, it's not my blood," Iolaus reassured him, pushing Hercules' hand away. "The guy back there had attacked Lortius, and then he attacked me when I tried to stop him. Lortius hit him on the head with a rock and Archimedes fell forward onto my knife. End of story. I'm just glad I finally found these two kids."

Moving forward, Iolaus went to the children and put a hand on each of their shoulders. "What do you say we all go back to the palace. I'll bet you guys could use a decent meal…not to mention a bath."

Eyes wide, Lortius sighed, "Tell me you're not kidding."

"He's not kidding," Jason interjected. "We've been looking for the two of you. You're a hero, Lortius…you helped save my life and now you've helped save Iolaus' life, too. A good hot meal, a bubble bath and clean clothes…and a soft bed are only the beginning. Neither of you are ever going to be lost or alone again, I promise you. C'mon, let's go home."

Tears shimmered in the boys' eyes as they began to understand that Iolaus and the Prince were serious. Trembling a little, their throats too tight to speak, they just stood there, stunned, until Iolaus gently pushed them forward, his arms around their shoulders as he drew them from the alley, away from the horrors of the life they'd known.

Hercules was about to go after Iolaus, intent upon getting some answers, when Jason grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "Leave him be," the Prince said quietly.

Confused, irritated by the lack of answers, Hercules turned frustrated eyes to the Prince. "Will you tell me what this was about? That's the guy from the palace the other night, isn't it? And you said he'd accosted the two of you before, on the streets. Iolaus called him 'Archimedes'. How does Iolaus know who he is? Dammit, Jase, I'd appreciate a few answers if you don't mind."

Sighing, the Prince looked down at the body of the evil merchant, then up at Iolaus' retreating back. Biting his lip, he said quietly, "I'm not sure I know all the answers, Hercules. But, this man preyed on homeless children…he may even be the one behind the slave trade here in Corinth. We might never know for sure. But…well, it was pretty clear that Iolaus knew him from his time on the streets in Thebes. Something happened back then, something terrible, I think. But…Iolaus doesn't want to talk about it. I don't think we should press him."

"But…" Hercules protested, grappling with what Jason was telling him…with what it might mean. There wasn't much that Iolaus wouldn't talk about, though it was true that he tended to be uncharacteristically silent about his time on the streets.

Jason interrupted, his voice low as he appealed to the demigod, "Listen to me, Hercules. If Iolaus wanted us to know, he'd tell us. He survived things we can't even begin to imagine, but he did survive. All he brought back with him from those years are his memories and his pride…don't push him to share what he wants to forget. Leave him his privacy…and his dignity." Pausing for a moment as he turned to follow Iolaus and the children back to the palace, Jason gazed for a long moment down at the body of the merchant. Finally, he murmured, "When I asked, Iolaus told me there were some facts of life I really didn't ever want to know."

His jaw tight, his eyes dark with concern, Hercules looked from the body back at Jason and then he turned his gaze to rest on Iolaus' back, bent a little as he sheltered and reassured the two young boys while they walked slowly back to the palace. 'What are your secrets, Iolaus?' he wondered. 'Will you ever let me close enough to know what you endured? Or will you protect me and everyone else from facts of life too hard to bear?" Sighing, he shook his head as he followed Jason out of the alley, leaving the soldiers to deal with the body.

* * *

Later, once everyone was cleaned up and fed, Iolaus' wound repaired and the two young boys tucked safely in bed, the three friends retired to Jason's suite. Jason and Iolaus sank wearily into two of the chairs in front of the blazing fire, while Hercules fussed around, making sure they were comfortable, warm enough, didn't want anything to drink and generally tried to work off his own residual anxiety. Gods, that guy could have killed Iolaus if the kid hadn't whacked him with the rock. The demigod shuddered a little at the thought and once again had to bite down on the questions he wanted so badly to ask.

"Would you sit down, Herc…you're making me nervous," Iolaus complained as he pulled away the blanket Hercules was trying to tuck around his knees and tossed it to the floor. "You're acting like a mother hen, clucking around, bustling everywhere…just relax, we're fine."

Looking down at Iolaus as he straightened, Hercules demanded, "Are you fine? Really?"

"Yes, mother, I'm fine," Iolaus replied with a long suffering sigh. But, seeing the concern shadowing his best friend's eyes, he looked from Hercules to Jason, and saw the same concern there…and understood that they weren't just worried about the last few hours. Caught off guard by the love he saw reflected in both sets of blue eyes, Iolaus lowered his head for a moment and heaved out a breath, steadying his emotions. His first instinct was to make a joke, to tease to lighten the mood, but he couldn't bring himself to resort to humour. They deserved better than that...their regard for him too precious to shrug off as if it didn't matter.

Because it did matter, so much he felt shaken by how much their clear affection and respect meant to him. Finally, he looked up with the brightest smile he could muster for the both of them.

"With friends like the two of you," he said warmly, his voice just a little shaky, "I'll always be fine…better than fine. Great. Thanks."

"Fine," Hercules replied as he awkwardly clapped Iolaus on the shoulder then turned to sink into his own chair.

"Good," echoed Jason, "so long as you're clear about that."

"Oh yeah," Iolaus replied, "I'm very clear."

Silence fell then as they all stared into the flames, lost in their own thoughts. After a few moments, Jason stirred as he said quietly, "Iolaus…I want to thank you for everything you taught me…being willing to show me a side of life I knew nothing about and needed to understand…."

"No problem, Jason," the blond cadet replied. "I know it wasn't easy for you, but…well, you're going to be a king and all…there were just a few 'facts of life' you needed to get straight…"

"Yeah, right," the Prince reflected wryly. "You can be assured I won't ever forget."

Straightening a little, rubbing his sore shoulder, Iolaus smiled softly as he said, "But, the most important 'fact of life', Jase, is that so long as we have friends, we're never alone…you'll be King someday, and you need to remember that, 'cause Kings can feel there is no one they can turn to, no one who will understand what they have to bear…don't ever feel like that, Jason…not so long as Herc and I are around, anyway. You can always count on us."

Jason nodded, unable to speak past the lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat. Hercules nodded, too, as he said firmly, "We can all, always, count on each other…right?"

"Right!" the other two chimed in, and the three laughed, easy in one another's company, warmed by their shared friendship.

But, they all also knew in the depths of their hearts that there were some facts of life they could never live with easily. In their own way, they would each devote their lives to helping those who were vulnerable, those who were in need of protection and solace.

They couldn't help all who faced lives of want and suffering… but they'd help more than anyone would ever really know and their actions would inspire others through the ages to take up the gauntlet and serve those who might otherwise be helpless, and save lives that might otherwise be lost.

Finis


End file.
